


God Damnit, Daphne!

by JZXR7



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Attack of the fangirls, Daphne Is a Gay Mess, Daphne Sucks With Boundaries, Enough Fluff To Choke A Man, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff, Gay Pining Enough to Give Mike Pence A Heart Attack, Getting a girlfriend is hard, Humor, Oblivious!Rose, Rose/Nutella is the real otp, Shenanigans, Twitter, accidental nudity, minor angsting, so is Rose, ”Whoops just flashed my crush!” An autobiography by Daphne Kluger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:09:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 28,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JZXR7/pseuds/JZXR7
Summary: Getting Rose Weil to figure out what is sitting right in front of her is hard. It's harder still when you have no idea how this friend thing works. But if anyone can get Rose to see past her anxiety, it's Daphne. Even if she accidentally brought twitter into it.Or: Scenes from an attempted Rophne courtship, where nothing goes according to plan.





	1. In Which Daphne Hatches A (Bad) Plan

**Day 1**

Daphne huffed, surveying the list in front of her.

Things I, Daphne Kluger, have tried to get the attention of Rose Weil:

-Moaning with that necklace

-Asked her to design every freaking gown I've worn since the heist

-Shown up to fittings in negligee, for fuck's sake

-Sent flowers

-Sent nutella

-Told her she looked beautiful

-Dedicated a fucking movie to her

She was unfamiliar with having close female friends, but at least one of those things has to be seen as vaguely fucking romantic. Clearly, the woman was just oblivious. Or so far in the closet she's in fucking Narnia. Anyone able to go on about her neck like she did clearly is not straight (or uninterested), so Daphne was just going to have to shove it in her face until she figured it out. There's only one thing to do at this point. She was going to have to involve her fans. Operation Rophne would begin tomorrow. 

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**Day 2, 8 am.**

@RealDaphKluger: Beautiful dress by a beautiful woman! You are amazing @RoseWeil!

#BFFs #LoveOfMyLife #I'mKeepingHer

 

@DaphneStan: OMG I SHIP IT! They're so cute! #RoseDaph

@Fashionista234: @RealDaphKluger @RoseWeil Please get married #PerfectForEachOther

@RophneOfficial: Never liked @ClaudeBecker for her anyway. #Rophne

See 1,850,274+ comments?

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**Day 2, 3 am.**

"Anyone wanna explain why there's a mass of photographers outside? Or why Rose has eaten two jars of Nutella and is curled up in a ball behind the sofa?" 

"Oh crap guys, Deb looks _mad_. I'm gonna just...go"

"Constance, do NOT open that door. If they break my windows, it's coming out of your cut!"

"Ok... This is fine. I can just stay here where it's safe. Forever."

"Aw, no Rose it'll blow over eventually. Right?"

"I dunno where you think you're all goin'. You've been trending all day, dudes. Better stay inside."

"Everyone heard Nine Ball. We all can stay here until they get bored. My kids get obsessed with stuff all the time, they'll lose interest eventually."

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	2. In Which Things Get Out of Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if you have a crush on an anxiety-prone fashion designer, having your fans try and set you up is a horrible idea.

**Day Three**

Around four A.M, two things were decided. A) The paparazzi wasn't going to leave any time soon, and B) Sleeping arrangements would have to be made. Debbie and Lou took one look at the situation, smirked, and made camp in the master bedroom, leading to much squealing about "Heist Wives" and "I knew it!" Unfortunately, this meant the mature members of the team were out of commission, and it was every woman for herself. Nine Ball was quickly given her own room after she threatened the sanctity of everyone's bank account, although she was willing to share with Tammy as "She's gotta deal with kids in her room too much already." While many took offense to being compared to children, no one was going to argue about less competition for the remaining beds. Of which there were two. Really, Daphne couldn't have planned it better. Dragging Rose out from behind the couch and into a room really wasn't that hard after taking away the nutella jar. Actually, after its powers of pacification were no longer at work, Daphne ended up fleeing from a hyperactive Rose intent on getting her sugary goodness back. After that little display, no one else wanted to share a room with her. Amita and Constance dove into their room, slammed the door, and barricaded it with a dresser. It was probably unnecessary, but no one had seen Rose like this before. It might be necessary. 

**Day Three, four hours later**

"Rose. Rose! Get the fuck down and go to bed!" Daphne was past acting dignified. She had tried commanding. She had tried begging, for fuck's sake. She had tried walking around in her underwear, because damn if hyper Rose wasn't also really hormonal. That was a partial success. She had managed to lure Rose into the bedroom, where she promptly scaled a dresser with her third nutella jar and refused to come down. Strangely, this did nothing to abate Daphne's affection for the woman. "Fine. I give the hell up." Turning her head skyward, Daphne rolled her eyes. "Please,  _please_ for God's sake let her burn through that sugar soon. This is literally a perfect situation and it's still not going according to plan!" Given the fact that it was now very early morning, Daphne collapsed face first on the bed and went to sleep. She had tried, damnit. 

**Day four, Way Too Early**

Daphne woke up to a face full of hair. It was definitely not her own, and she was definitely not complaining. She threw an arm around her designer and went back to sleep.


	3. In Which Boundaries Are Ignored. Whoops.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone freaks out, and more tropes are employed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meganmullallys and Alwayshope, thank you for your comments. You've made my day, so I'm dedicating this here chapter to you. If there is any trope I should include in this, send the suggestion my way.

**Day four, early afternoon**

Daphne was very confused when she woke. She was absolutely certain she had fallen asleep cuddling her (yes,  _her_ ) Rose, and that was definitely no longer the case. She was instead in an empty (but still warm) bed, next to what appeared to be Rose's tablet. Which was opened to Rose's twitter feed. Daphne smirked. Having some of the craziest fans in the world had its perks, even if they (and the entire public) seemed to think she was some sort of moron. It appears Rose was on her fourth page of "Rophne" fanart. An image of the two of them kissing at the met gala, expertly photoshopped, filled the screen. Daphne made a mental note to follow the Rophne tag, and send this "rosedaphstan" person a check for their magnificent work, although she hoped it hadn't triggered a Rose anxiety attack. She did not feel like dealing with a repeat of last night's episode. As thrilled as she was Rose was seeming to get the idea (Or be tagged over 90,000 times by supporters of the idea in two days) it begged the question: Where the fuck was Rose now? As Daphne racked her brain for potential hiding places in the loft, she walked into the bathroom to begin her daily beauty regime. When trapped in a loft with your crush, it was important to make the extra effort. She distractedly removed her pyjamas and walked toward the bathroom. So distracted was she, that she heard the Irish-accented rendition of "I Won't Say I'm In Love" too late. Steam flowed out of the open door. Daphne didn't register why that might be a sign to get out. It was only when the singing stopped with a high-pitched shriek that the situation registered. Daphne froze. Rose froze. Several moments passed. Hyperventilation and staring occurred. Daphne's brain was the first to reengage, because _holy crap_. She wasn't sure whether flirting over the situation would be stepping over the line. Did friends stare at each other in the shower? She was pretty (somewhat?) damn certain that they didn't. Daphne gave her widest, "I'm impossible to be mad at" smile, and turned toward the door.

"Shit! Sorry about that, I'm not fully functioning till I've had coffee. I'll go make some. Come downstairs if you want any!" Daphne only just made it out of the bathroom before she started grinning. While it was somewhat inappropriate to do so, that was a memory she would cherish till the end of time. As would Rose, if the look on her face was anything to go by. She smugly walked down the stairs. Penelope Stern, eat your heart out.

While she had never operated a coffee maker in her life, and never actually drank caffeine (it really was horrible for you, and yellowed your teeth) it appeared she would need to make an exception. Nine Ball was sure to help her after she explained the situation, right?


	4. In Which Other People are Recruited Forcefully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daphne is SO busted, and everyone is laughing to hard to not help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to lesbianfrog, for her lovely comments.

**Day four, early afternoon**

Lou awoke to screaming. Given her current housemates (Stupid  _bloody_ paparazzi siege) this was not a shocking development. Rolling over, she stuffed her pillow over her head and attempted to go back to sleep. Someone had probably broken the damn coffee maker  _again,_ and they could freaking deal with it. She would stay here, cuddle with her girlfriend (!) in peace, and murder them later. Beside her, Debbie groaned. "Why. Why are we sharing our house with six overgrown children?" Lou laughed. Debbie was always pouting when her sleep was interrupted. It was really cute. "I swear if they don't shut up I'm moving." 

 _Well._ That was unacceptable. Whoever was having a conniption was going to can it or Lou was going to make them.

"Go back to sleep, baby. I'll take care of it." Lou kissed Debbie on the forehead and swept out of bed. Quietly shutting the door, she adopted her most intimidating scowl and stalked toward the source of the sound.

* * *

 

"Lou! Please tell me you know how the fuck to make coffee!" This confirmation in Lou's basic domestic abilities was accompanied by a Daphne to the chest. Lou slammed into the wall with the force of the collision, leaving them both sprawled on the floor. She sent Daphne her crankiest "You Are Going to Die" glare. Daphne let out a whimper, but was undeterred in her mission. "I accidentally, sort of on purpose saw Rose in the fucking shower! And she panicked. And I panicked! We both fucking panicked. And now I need to make coffee, or else she'll know I was lying. I want her to like me for God's sake, but if I get caught lying she sure as hell won't. And I don't want her to like me as just a friend, and I don't know what the hell to do. This is  _not_ anything like seducing Claude freaking Becker!" She managed to recount this without breathing. Lou looked unsure whether to be impressed with her stamina or very sorry for the actors she directed. 

"Ha! Called it. Debbie owes me now. As long as it buys me quiet you'll get your damn coffee."

Lou strode in the kitchen, Daphne hot on her heels, and was not entirely surprised to see Tammy and Nine Ball already in attendance, no doubt rudely awakened as well if their steaming cups of caffeine and glares were anything to go by.

"Ok kids, new plan. Daph is trying to date Rose and she hasn't noticed yet, and it is rapidly becoming my problem. Everyone living in this house is now helping get these two morons together so they can  _stop disturbing our sleep._ Tell Amita and Constance when they show up. I'm going back to bed." Lou's call to arms was somewhat interrupted by the wolf-whistles of the team as she made her way back to Debbie. She glared over her shoulder and left. It appeared that as long as the two gay disasters in the second guest bedroom were no longer her problem, they could squeal as much as they wanted.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, in the shower, Rose had the inescapable feeling that something nefarious was being set into motion. She resolved to stay away from her twitter feed and stock up on comfort food. The world had evidently gone mad, especially Daphne (!), who was even prettier than she thought and really quite distracting. Rose forgot what she was nervous about before, as she began panicking over something very familiar. She really needed more nutella to survive being trapped in one room with Daph and her boobs. And neck! And eyes! And everything, really. Daphne sent her anxiety into overdrive, and she wasn't quite sure why. 


	5. In Which Everyone Has Gone Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is concerned for her housemates. They appear to be acting very strangely, especially Daphne!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to paolapotter for commenting on every chapter (I'm swooning), im_always_down_to_run_with_you, and lesbianfrog AGAIN.

**Day four, later in the afternoon**

It took Rose an age and a half to eventually leave the relative safety of the shower. In her defense, she was rightfully distracted, and every time she looked toward the door she remembered... _THAT._ Which she would probably remember till her dying day, unless she got amnesia somehow? But Daphne had promised coffee (coffee  _with_ Daphne!) and so she eventually braved the downstairs. All but Debbie and Lou were already at the table smirking ominously (And what was up with that?), and seeing Daphne's overly wide smile almost made her stop craving nutella. She was just  _so_ lovely, wasn't she? Daphne slid a mug of coffee into her hands and pulled her down into the chair next to her. It really was quite domestic, all of them together, wasn't it? She'd miss it when the paparazzi left-  _wait. what if the paparazzi never left? she could do that SHE COULD she could just tweet some things and she could stay in the loft where she felt safe forever-_ There was a hand waving in front of her face. "You're not paying attention to me!" Daphne's pout could have brought a nation to its knees, and probably had in the past.  _Remember how it affected Claude Becker?_ The oh-so- _bloody_ -helpful voice in her head reminded her. And yes, she did remember. She wasn't quite sure why Daphne's ex stuck in her head so much but he _did._ She didn't find him attractive, so why did she care- right. Daphne. Pouting. Over her. Far more important that Claude. 

"I am paying attention, love!How could anyone focus on anything else with you near?" Daphne batted her eyes ( _those lovely Bambi eyes...)_ and beamed at her.

"That's absolutely freaking right! Don't any of you  _ever_ forget it!" Rose couldn't if she tried. Daphne was really quite hypnotizing. It wasn't  _fair._ Every time she saw her she wanted a sketchbook, to put her up in thousands of gowns and never let anyone else see her in them. Which didn't make sense. Her job was to put people in gowns so people  _could_ see them. But thinking about Daphne never made much sense anyway. Speaking of, the brunette's head had found a home on her shoulder, causing the neckline of her robe to warp.  _She was practically flashing the table!_ On second (eighth) glance, she was  _not_ flashing the table. In fact, the only one who could see anything at that angle was Rose. Who had no idea what to do with that knowledge. She picked up her coffee, prepared to jump start her brain by downing the lot. However, her distraction over Daphne's newest "outfit" caused her to miss her mouth entirely, soaking the front of her shirt. It wasn't hot enough to burn, but the embarrassment more than made up for the lack of pain. Daphne ( _Kind, lovely Daphne)_ had dragged her to the bathroom before she could blink, and had her out of the soaked shirt before she could make a sound. As Daphne soaked up the remains of the coffee with a hand towel, Rose realized that she was in an enclosed space  _with Daphne Kluger_ and  ** _not wearing a shirt._** Daphne seemed remarkably less flummoxed, and Rose attempted to match her. Internally, she was screaming. 

"There, you're decaffeinated." Daphne said, tossing the towel at her. "I'll go get you a clean shirt or something. Gotta be something I can steal from someone, right?" She smiled uncertainly, not entirely sure how to react to the fact that Daphne had- _DAPHNE HAD HAD HER HANDS ON HER CHEST AND SHE HADN'T EVEN NOTICED._ Nodding stupidly, Rose watched Daphne flounce out of the room and collapsed onto the loo. The whole world had gone mad. Maybe she was mad. One thing she was sure of is the madness was directly caused by one Daphne Kluger, and strangely Rose didn't mind one bit.


	6. In Which Daphne Has A Mental Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boobs. Daphne grabbed Rose's fucking- WHY DID SHE DO THAT? Ok, she knew why she did that. But WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Tatea14 and daleskeiah for making my day with their commentary. Love you both!

**(Still) Day four, not-so-early afternoon. (Day two of being trapped in the loft)**

Daphne's thoughts were a disorganized heap as she left the bathroom. _Oh God. Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. That happened. I did...That. Good God, the look on her face. Oh. Oh. She didn't mind, did she? There wasn't any screaming, anyway. That's a good fucking sign. Clearly she doesn't hate me for accidentally (not accidentally) groping her in the bathroom. Hoo-fucking-ray._ _I need a damn adult._ Daphne took a deep breath. Rose was frozen in the bathroom. Rose was frozen in the bathroom because Daphne had (sort of) flashed her, tore her shirt off, and then  _may have_ felt her up a little. In a completely appropriate way. And Rose hadn't slapped her, so it was a really fucking good day. Maybe she'd figure out Daphne wanted to marry her and have adorable Irish-sounding babies with her before the day of the freaking wedding. (While Daphne hoped it wouldn't come to bringing Rose to her own wedding in a dress without her realizing it was her own fucking wedding, Daphne had already planned for that contingency. If she had Lou give Rose away, she was strong enough to carry her down the aisle even if she froze. Her Father could escort Daphne on the other side of Rose, just in case. It would work, damnit!) The good news is that Rose seemed to be on the verge of realizing that she was into her, thank God. She really wasn't subtle in the ogling. Everyone at the table knew exactly where her eyes were at breakfast, although they were nice enough to not start laughing like idiots until she had gotten Rose into the bathroom. She was glad they were helping, but for world class criminals they could be really fucking dumb. Walking to the window, Daphne drew aside the blinds to count the photographers. She calculated that the crowd had been decreasing by about twenty percent per day, meaning that she would need to give them something else via social media if she wanted Rose in close proximity for much longer. Rose did seem happy with all her friends in one place. She even seemed less anxious. Really, it was a public service to keep them trapped. Nodding to herself, she picked up her cell phone. The waters of social media took diligence and care to traverse without getting angry calls from your agent. She did  _not_ want to deal with her, so she'd have to be careful not to confirm anything before there was something to confirm (She was  _not_ tweeting "I want to bang and have beautiful, well-dressed children with Rose Weil! Someone tell her to date me!" no matter how oblivious Rose ended up being. She'd pin her to a random wall and kiss her before she tried  _that._ Shuddering in disgust, Daphne scrolled through her twitter and instagram feeds, delighted to see that "Rophne" was still trending worldwide. She was less pleased to see a faction of her fandom mounting a campaign of "Klucker" media in response. Stupid fucking Claude. Several pictures of the Met Gala were in circulation. Daphne chose to like those of Rose/Daphne shippers where nothing about them being a thing was explicitly mentioned. She damn well supported it, but plausible deniability was a thing. Daphne was reasonably sure that her support of the 'ship would increase the media presence near the loft for the future, extending her time with Rose. She needed it, if only to make up for all the accidental nudity of the past twenty-four hours. Should she send a card? That didn't sound right. In a perfect world, Daphne had some very R-rated ideas on how to make it up to her, but that would require Rose realizing that there was a  _really_ fucking hot woman  _right there._ Was Rose closeted, or did she really not notice? It would be pretty rude to just drag her out of the closet, but if it was a matter of her not realizing she was gayer than a fucking pride parade?  _That_ Daphne could fix. Social media stalking was a perfectly reasonable method of finding out, right?

**Late Afternoon, approximately two hours later**

Operation "Get Rose To Fall In Love With Me" was going to have to come after Operation "Death To Compulsory Heterosexuality". No one straight could possibly have that many thirst tweets over Janelle Monáe. The real kicker was the- _what the fuck Rose. Why did she have a flame war with Claude **why was she throwing shade at him over twitter right now** what the fuck. that's gay. and hot. she's insulting him in Gaelic and I'm weak. _Evidently a good portion of her fans were delighted that Rose was ""Fighting the Unworthy One" for the pleasure of Daphne's hand. She was sure Rose was unaware that's what people thought she was doing, but if that didn't increase the press outside nothing would. Insulting your "Friend's" ex's manhood, sense of style, brain size and abilities in the bedroom, then topping it off by mentioning his looming prison sentence? Savage, and not platonic behavior at all. Daphne threw herself onto the bed, almost tasting victory.  _Would Rose design both their wedding gowns? You weren't supposed to see the bride before the wedding, would that count?_ Daphne's musing were rudely interrupted by a voice downstairs.

" **ROSE WEIL!** Get down here  _right now!_ " 

Well, that was Debbie. Who did not sound happy. Lou needed to get on that  _yesterday._ It sounded like Rose would need someone to play her knight in...Ok. Maybe she'd let Debbie scare her a bit while she changed into something more like armor and less like last night's dress, then do downstairs looking fabulous once the threat had been established and rescue was actually required. Rescues seemed more heroic that way. Daphne groaned in frustration, realizing she had  _not_ packed enough clothing for a siege or for more than one night of attempted seduction. Who had the best clothes to steal?.. Probably Lou. Nothing like a three-piece suit to say "I like women." That's what she'd do. She'd go steal Lou's clothes and save Rose from everyone else now that she accidentally lengthened the amount of time they'd be stuck together. If Rose would understand anything, it was the language of clothes. She was a  _fashion designer,_ this had to work! If it didn't, she could always smear nutella over her chest and hope for the best. 


	7. In Which Rose Contemplates Her Life Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose wonders if insulting Claude Becker on twitter was really a good idea. And then gets proof it definitely was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Tatea14 for leaving the comment to end all comments. Love you!

**Day four, Late Afternoon**

Debbie Ocean was rather scary when she was mad, wasn't she? Rose hadn't even  _meant_ to cause the paps to swarm the house. She thought. She just saw some people saying Daphne and Claude were meant to be and she  _knew_ what an arsehole her was and she got so bloody  _angry..._ She wasn't sure why everyone thought it was such a big deal. People insult people on social media  _all the time,_ just look at what some weasels wrote about her clothes! Debbie didn't seem to see it that way. She was yelling and  _what if she hates me? What if I ruined everything over Claude Becker? What if **Daphne** hates me?  **What if Daphne hates me what do i do**_ -

"-and now we're stuck here for even longer! Honestly Rose, he's a piece of shit and all, but you couldn't have waited to be on your own damn property?!"

Rose realized she was supposed to respond, but couldn't think of anything to say. She shrunk down further, into the perceived safety of Under The Table. Cradling her ice cream carton (She was out of nutella. She could just cry) to her chest, she wondered if fainting was an appropriate response to this situation. It's just that she had wanted to help, really she had, and anything involving Daphne made her brain work funny, and these people were saying  _such rude things_ and... Debbie had stopped waiting for a response and turned toward the door, for some reason. Rose wondered if she had missed something somehow. Had the paps gotten into the house? Did Lou punch one? No, because Lou was right there and- That wasn't Lou. Daphne shot Debbie a glare. 

"Really, Deb?  _Really?_ For fuck's sake, if Claude showed up in your twitter feed God knows what you'd say." She clomped over to the table-  _Where did she get those boots? Her legs looked lovely in those, she should wear them more-_ Rose lost her train of thought. Daphne crouched down, dark hair backlit by the kitchen light. She looked like a slightly murderous angel. Rose dropped the ice cream carton, too distracted by Daphne and her new look to properly mourn it.

"I'm sorry Daph, really I am! I know it's not may place to say all that and I stirred up this mess and I'm so,  _so sorry!"_ Rose stared down at the floor, tears running down her face with the remains of her eye makeup. "This is all my faul-" 

"Rose. Hush." A pale hand covered her mouth, preventing her from continuing to apologize. This close, she could smell Daphne's perfume. She really was magnificent. It was making her head spin. Looking up into dark eyes, Rose couldn't quite help giving her attire a once-over.  _I didn't know Daphne wore suits? She looks perfect, of course. Although that looks like..._

"Wha yu wurung loo soo?" Daphne giggled and removed her hand from Rose's mouth, taking her hands and pulling out from under the table.

"What was that, babe?"

"Right. Why are you wearing Lou's suit? Not that you don't look good in it, of course you look amazing! But you stole that. I think. Unless you brought a suitcase?..." 

"Oh, don't stop with the compliments, you know I love them!" Daphne twirled around in her stolen finery. She gave a mischievous grin. "It works awfully well for Lou, doesn't it? She gets _all_ the girls. Half a nation would go gay for her. So I thought I'd give it a whirl. What do you think?"

Girls. Lou got all the girls.  _Why did Daphne want- Oh. OH. Daphne likes girls DAPHNE LIKES GIRLS! DAPHNELIKESGIRLS! Right. Daphne liked girls. That was...Not surprising, not many people in this house were straight. And also not Rose's business in any way._ Belatedly, Rose realized Daphne was still waiting for a response.

"Right! Er...You look fantastic. Like always, of course! But...Different? A whole nation would go gay for you, I'm sure of it!"

"Even you, Rosie?"

Rose choked. Tried to say something. Anything really. Even an unintelligible garble would do at this point. Daphne looked at her expectantly, salacious smirk fully in place.  _God above that look. She looks like she wants to eat me. What do I say? WHAT DO I SAY I don't know what to say but I need to say SOMETHING. Bullocks._

"Sorry, what?"

Did she say that out loud? Panicking slightly, Rose did what she always did when panicking. She started saying whatever popped into her head.

"Who wouldn't? You have that hair and those legs and your arse is amazing and you smell good! Half the world wants to marry you! You're talented and brilliant and sort of terrifying _but in a good way_! I swear I meant that in a good way. Oh, bloody hell."

Daphne didn't look offended. If anything she looked pleased, basking in well-deserved praise. She reminded Rose of a cat somewhat, sprawled against the counter like she was posing for a photographer. Rose ached for her sketchbook, even knowing she'd never create anything half as beautiful as Daphne Kluger. Who was moving toward her at an alarming rate.

Before she could get to the floor again, she was swept into Daphne's arms.  _Mmmm. This is nice. Forget under the bleeding table Rose was never leaving this exact spot ever again. Daphne was warm and soft and safe, and Rose almost forgot the fact that they were in a public space._

Daphne kissed the top of her head, shifting in Rose's death grip.

"I love you too Rosie. Although I think for your own safety you better stay in our room. Away from twitter."

Rose could only nod, allowing herself to be guided back to the bedroom and have her phone confiscated. 

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from the big bad fangirls."

The bed dipped as Daphne sat beside her. Rose never wanted her to go.  _It's rather lovely, having friends like this. I wonder if this is what Debbie and Lou feel like?_ Rose may have seen the second meaning in that statement on another day, but she was overwhelmed and cuddling with a beautiful woman and she just let her brain leave her behind. She swore she'd never been happier, wrapped up in Daphne's arms- _Wait. Why was she?...Daphne was holding her._ Rose had no idea when that had happened. She wasn't sure why she needed that information. She dropped her head onto Daphne's shoulder and nuzzled into her hair, content to forget all about scary women named Debbie or twitter fangirls or her appalling lack of nutella. Daph was a better comfort anyway. (She refused to analyze why.)

 


	8. In Which Things Heat Up. Literally, Unfortunately.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which trying to date someone while under siege and without them knowing is extremely difficult, and Daphne can't cook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late guys. My entire republican extended family crashed at our house today, and I got so tired of hearing "Where are you going to college?" and "Do you have a boyfrie-GIRLFRIEND yet?" and spiked the shit out of my drink and was in no condition to write. Whoops!
> 
> Chapter dedicated to Tatnea14, my favorite person ever.

**Day five, around noon**

Rose woke up without fully realizing she had gone to sleep in the first place. Daphne had apparently made a rather excellent pillow. Looking for her phone to check the time, she realized it had been confiscated "for her own good." It was light outside, meaning for the first time in a while she had actually slept through the bloody night. Of  _course_ that only happened when Daphne Kluger was in her bed. Who was now nowhere to be found. On the other side of the bed lay a printout of the New York times website and a note.

_Rose-_

_You looked too fucking adorable to wake up, so I let you sleep. Everyone else is out cold. Let's keep them that way. I'm making breakfast if you want it!_

The paper was turned to a rather complimentary story about Rose's new fashion line. Daphne really was ridiculously nice to her, wasn't she? By force of habit Rose turned to the gossip column. It was a small indulgence, knowing even when everyone hated her clothes someone else had embarrassed themselves even more. The first article almost caused her to scream before she realized that would wake everyone up. She was rather eager to have Daphne all to herself.  _Am I acting mad? You're not supposed to be territorial with your friends, are you? And since when do I not like breakfast with the others?_ She was distracted by this train of thought by the sheer force of panic caused by the article. In bold type, it proclaimed that one Daphne Kluger was apparently- _hold on one bleeding second. He isn't her "long term boyfriend!" He isn't her long term anything!_ Right. It said Daph was cheating on Claude with her. That made...Perfect sense.  _To the paps it does!_ pointed out the cheerful voice in her head.  _It makes perfect sense to you as well. **what? since when would I steal someone else's girlfriend?** since Daphne Kluger, dear. _While the voice made a valid point, conversing with one's anxiety would get one nothing but a panic attack. And Rose was already panicking heavily, thank you very much. Had Daphne seen this? Would she think it was funny, or would she be horrified?  _Or would she think it's a great idea- **Of course she wouldn't think it's a good idea!**_ For her own mental health, Rose tossed the paper onto the nearest surface and marched downstairs for breakfast, to freeze when she passed a mirror. While she knew she  _could_ show up in her pyjamas, something was telling her to go change. And put on makeup. And tame her hair. And buy flowers.  _Flowers? Why would I?..._ Sighing in defeat, she did her hair and makeup, only to be stopped short by the clothing situation. She hadn't exactly packed for this long of a trip. She hadn't packed at all, whatwith the IRS seizing her flat and all its contents. And she wasn't going to quite fit into anything of Lou's, unlike  _some people_ who just looked  _incredible all the bloody time._ Rose threw on her dress (And thank God for Lou's laundry machines) and defeatedly headed downstairs. To see Daphne in only a button up shirt that was definitely stolen  _again,_ trying to...Put out a fire?  _There's a bloody fire! Why is there a fire what do I do what did **Daphne** do is she on fire WHAT IF SHE'S HURT what if it spreads and we all have to go outside what if- DAPHNE IS ON FIRE . _Not thinking so much as reacting, Rose hurled the nearest vessel full of liquid (which happened to be a vase of flowers- _why were there flowers? Had Daphne put them there? Where did she get FLOWERS?_ ) at Daphne's shirt, which was now smoking slightly. Daphne calmly dropped a lid on her flaming pan, causing the fire to peter out as she turned around.  _I definitely did not think this through. She was wearing a white shit **why did it have to be white** oh my dear Lord what do I say-I need to stop staring at her boobs. Now. _Smiling sheepishly, Rose looked up at the now rather wet Daphne. Who was still smiling at her for some reason?

"My hero. Although I owe Lou a new fucking shirt now, huh?" Well. She didn't appear angry, at least. She also didn't appear to notice she was now wearing a see-through shirt. Rose, for some reason, couldn't quite point it out. Rose couldn't quite do anything but stare and try not to make any noise. Hips swaying rhythmically, Daphne placed a stack of pancakes on the table.

"I tried to make eggs. You saw how that turned out. These have nutella in them though, so I'm sure it'll be fine!" Rose nodded and collapsed into her chair, hoping to God someone would appear outside with a bubble gun to distract her from staring. She really did stare at Daphne a lot. It was almost (definitely) inappropriate. More inappropriate were the moaning noises coming out of Daphne's mouth as she ingested what was probably the first unhealthy food she'd had in a year.  _This is like that bloody necklace all over again. What did I do to deserve this?_ Daphne continued smiling as she congratulated her on the Times article. They fell into easy conversation, but the mention of the paper brought to mind its accusations of Daphne leaving Claude for her. Which made her feel strangely smug for some reason?... _Because I hate him! That's ALL. And the paps will never leave and we can stay together forever- which would be bad. Because they all had lives. And didn't want to wear the same outfits forever. Right. Although living with Daphne forever would balance it out-_ Rose was starting to panic, and she wasn't quite sure why. Daphne's presence seemed to go between soothing her and giving her heart attacks.  _If I did die of overexposure to Daphne Kluger I don't think I'd even mind._


	9. In Which Lou Hands Everyone But Debbie an Eviction Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lou finally gets tired of running a hotel for criminals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! There is a giant rainstorm and my house is flooding and there's tons of lightning and my dumbass mom is outside with a fucking ladder so what do I do? Update my fic of course!
> 
> To Tatnea14, like fucking always cause they're AMAZING <3

**Day 5, slightly after noon**

Daphne perched on her chair, amusedly watching Rose try desperately not to stare at her cleavage. Listen, teasing her might be mean, but she  _so_ did not plan on being lit on fire. And really, it wouldn't even be teasing if Rose just realized she was gayer than the fab five and made a move. She wondered if she could get away with stealing another of Lou's suits to replace the shirt. That seemed to have worked pretty darn well, if the never-ending stream of stammered compliments was anything to go by. This musing was brought to a halt by the arrival of Lou. Lou, who took one look at them, resolute scowl on her face, and grabbed two frying pans. Had she fucking lost it or something? Whatever Lou was doing, it was scaring Rose, which was unacceptable. Between her and Debbie, she'd die of an anxiety-related heart attack.

"Lou. What the fuck are you doing?" Lou raised her eyebrows.

"Daphne, what the fuck are you  _wearing?_ "

" _Later_ " she mouthed desperately. The secretly-a-date breakfast had been going very well, and could still be salvaged if Lou  _left the fucking kitchen._ Lou rolled her eyes and walked away with the pans. Turning back toward Rose, Daphne gave her best "Ignore Lou, I'm Way More Important" look. Rose gave a strangled whimper, dropping her fork. Daphne reached out, sticking a loose curl back behind Rose's ear. Rose leaned in.  _IT'S ACTUALLY WORKING. She's going to kiss me, everything will be perfect, I don't need to plan a wedding in secret..._  

**SLAM! SLAM! SLAM SLAM SLAM! SLAMSLAMSLAMSLAMSLAM!**

"WAKE UP YOU MORONS!"

Lou walked up and down the landing, slamming her pans together. "I have an announcement. I've called you all a fucking car. Two, actually. Everyone not Rose and Daphne is getting dropped of to their fucking houses. No reason for us all to suffer. Rose and Daphne will be going in a separate car to literally anywhere but here. You have two hours to pack!"

'Everyone Other Than Rose and Daphne' were out of bed shockingly quickly. Prospective freedom tended to do that to a person. Rose and Daphne looked at each other. Daphne knew Lou had given her a perfect opportunity if she could use it properly. "The IRS seized your apartment, didn't they?"

Rose froze. Her bottom lip trembled. As the first tear rolled down her face, Daphne wondered if perhaps she had miscalculated. "They did! I was staying in the loft, but then I ruined that, didn't I? And now I can't stay anywhere because it would be 'Too Suspicious' if I bought a too many things at once so I have nowhere to stay and  _what am I going to do?_ " 

Rose was quickly heading into hysteria. Thinking fast, Daphne grabbed her in the tightest hug she could manage. "The press wants to photograph both of us. Just stay at my place. I absolutely have the room, and at least we can deal with all of them at once."

Rose exhaled, still shaking. "Won't that make things worse? They do think I've seduced you, somehow, as if that were possible." 

"Mmmm. Well, they also think I was seduced by Claude Becker. I'm moving up, aren't I?"  _You have no idea just how possible that is, babe._ Daphne wanted to add, but felt that might be pushing it after inviting Rose to move in with her. Springing things on the flighty designer never seemed to be a good idea. Ever. "Besides, it can't hurt. All press is good press. Have you checked your website? You're sold out of fucking  _everything._ And you've saved me the bother of finding a 'tasteful' way of coming out. Fucking bitch of a manager... It'll be fun! Live with me, let everyone break the internet over how fabulous we are!" She spun Rose around, laughing at the look on her face. "Please? For me?" the pout on her face was lethal and she knew it. Rose had no chance. 

"Well, all right. Because it's a good thing for our reputations, and you're a wonderful person for letting me stay with you, thank you so much Daphne I absolutely adore you!" Right. "For their reputations" her perfectly formed ass. But she got what she wanted, and after the scene in the kitchen Daphne was sure it was only a matter of time before Rose cracked. And now they didn't have to worry about privacy when she did. She'd have to send Lou a gift basket for this.

 


	10. In which Daphne Terrifies The Press

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tatnea14, my darlin', just consider the whole damn fic dedicated to you.

**Day 5, around 2 pm**

Tammy, Nine Ball, Amita, and Constance got in their car amazingly fast once the paps realized none of them were Daphne or Rose. The driver looking like a mercenary probably helped as well. The first car pulled out so fast it left skid marks, and the second took its place before the press could occupy the space newly vacated. To Rose, the mob of photographers resembled sharks around a boat, and she was getting pushed into the water. She'd dealt with press, for work at least, but in comparison to the usual fashion bloggers these people looked rabid. Daphne lay a hand on her shoulder. She had "persuaded" Lou (read: annoyed) into lending them "Photo-proof clothing." This apparently meant hoodies, oversized sunglasses, baseball hats, and scarves all worn at once. Rose was cringing, but at least no one would be able to tell it was her. 

"Ready, kids?" Lou asked, maniacal smile on her face.  _She really was enjoying this, wasn't she?_ Without waiting for an answer, Debbie opened the door long enough for Lou to shove them outside. Microphones were thrust in their faces. Everyone was screaming; questions, accusations, they could have been saying anything. Rose didn't register any of it. She froze to the spot, unable to move toward the car that was now blocked by paps. Flashes went off as the screaming intensified. Dahpne proved to be her savior, as always. The photographer who had been grabbing at her arm had his microphone thrown across the lawn. Daphne grabbed her arm, sprinting through the mob. People either got out of her way or were mowed down. Apparently Daphne wasn't above elbowing people in the face? They were in the car when things started registering again. Daphne's hair blocked her vision as the star held her, whispering soothing things in her ear. The car was still stationary, laying on the horn in order to try to get the paps to move. Rose leaned against Daphne, slightly embarrassed by the fact that she kept losing control of herself in front of the woman. 

"Don't worry baby, you're safe." Daphne pulled her close, practically in her lap. Rose's head was swimming.  _There must be something about panicking and then touching? That must be why her head wasn't working. Was she supposed to talk? Or do something? Or apologize maybe?_ "Everything's fine, Rose. Although if the damn vultures don't move soon I'm telling Ivan to run them over already." The threatening statement was a sharp contrast to Daphne's soft voice, and Rose almost felt bad for the press about to face her wrath. Almost. Daphne leaned away from her, only to start yelling. "Ivan? IVAN!" The partion between the back and front seat was lowered. "Give me your cell phone number. And earplugs, if you have them." Looking confused as Rose was feeling, the hulking man complied. Daphne typed the number into her cell phone. "Everyone put in the earplugs. Ivan, I'm going to call you. Close the partion, pick up using the car phone, turn up the volume all the way then crack the front windows. Be prepared to fucking gun it." The man nodded, looking slightly less confused and slightly more amused. The partion went up. "Rose, honey, it's going to get loud. I'm going to scare the press of Lou's lawn. Then we're going to leave. Alright?" Rose nodded, having an inkling what Daphne was planning and feeling very sorry for her manager. She stuffed the plugs in her ears as Daphne hit "dial." 

 **"LISTEN TO ME, YOU FUCKING DICKHEADS!"**   _Well that was loud._ All the press clearly thought so too, as Daphne's voice over the car phone invaded their ears. 

 **"YOU ARE EITHER GOING TO FUCKING MOVE, OR WE ARE GOING TO HIT YOU LIKE THE FUCKING ROADKILL YOU ARE! THAT IS A PROMISE. YOU WANT A STATEMENT? HERE'S MY FUCKING STATEMENT: YOU CAN ALL FUCKING SUCK IT. NOW MOE OR BE MOVED."** Daphne hung up with a self-satisfied smirk. Rose wasn't sure whether to hug her or cower in fear for being part of the cause of this mess. Daphne gave her a mischievous grin as the press leapt out of the way, Ivan already moving the car forward. After the seriousness of Daphne's threat was realized, the press parted like a crowd after a fart as the car careened into the street and away from the loft. As the pap who grabbed Rose fell in to a trash can in his haste to move, Rose couldn't help but laugh. Daphne was already giggling hysterically.  _Her laugh is lovely. She should do it more often. She's so lovely when she's happy._ They didn't stop laughing until they got to Daphne's flat, which was also under siege. "Don't worry Rosie. They know they have to stay off of private property or I'll call the cops. Thank fuck for lawyers."

Daphne opened her car door and offered Rose her hand. Grabbing onto her like her life depended on it, Rose gingerly stepped out of the car and joined Daphne in sprinting to the main entrance of the building. A aged doorman let them in, waving at Daphne. 

"Congratulations, Ms. Kluger. This one's a huge improvement!"

The paparazzi hooted and tried to get photos of the man. Daphne rolled her eyes at him. "Really, Andre?"

"What? We both know you love to antagonize them!" Daphne gestured to Rose, before understanding dawned in the man's eyes. "Oh. My apologies, Miss."

"Oh, it's quite all right. They really are quite horrid." Rose liked him already, if only because he hated Claude. 

"If you wanna give em a real heart attack, you should spend a bit of time on Ms. Kluger's balcony without the hoodies. Might be funny, anyway."

Daphne looked exasperated. " _Thank you, Andre._ Come on, Rose. I am dying for a change of clothes that actually belongs to me."

Rose followed her to the elevator. She ignored the butterflies (really more like step dancers) in her stomach at the thought of living with Daphne. Which is what she'd been doing for days, wasn't it?  _Not without supervision, though. Which was ridiculous. Because why would they need a chaperone they were grown adults. Who were friends. Who were just friends for goodness sake!_


	11. In Which Stops Are Pulled Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne is done with subtlety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Tatnea14, for singlehandedly inspiring me to continue this sucker.

**Day 5, 3 pm-ish**

After placing calls to her personal shoppers, Daphne shut herself in her room to get a game plan. She had meant to plan this shit in the car, but Rose had needed her attention more than the plan did.  _God,_ the nerve of the fucking paparazzi. They were lucky Rose was in the car or they would be fucking roadkill. Daphne walked over to her closet. She wasn't kidding about needing a change of clothes. Stepping into clean ones, she wondered how exactly she wanted to play this. Rose was living with her. Rose didn't have anywhere to go. Ideally she'd never leave, and they'd just officially move in together. Based on the rate that things were going, that meant throwing subtlety out the window. She hadn't been particularly fucking subtle to begin with, but clearly she needed to make herself impossible to see in any light other than a romantic one. Daphne knew that while just kissing Rose and moving on was tempting, the woman clearly did not know how to use the word "no." this had to be completely her idea, and that meant waiting. Daphne fucking hated waiting.  _Well, at least there aren't any more live-in interruptions._ Daphne swept out of the bedroom to see Rose looking anxiously at her tablet on the couch. She smirked. Sitting down next to her and draping herself against Rose, she took a peak at what had the designer so frazzled. Only to have the tablet yanked away.  _That was new?..._ "Rosie? Is everything okay?" Daphne tried to keep her voice as non-threatening as possible. If someone had written something to upset her they would be dealing with her lawyers. 

"YES, EVERYTHING'S FINE!" Rose's voice leapt several octaves higher than usual. Daphne raised a pefect eyebrow.

"Are you  _sure?_ You seem a little... _tense._ " She draped an arm over Rose's shoulders, dropping her head to nuzzle into her neck. 

"Just an...email. From...A person. Who is not important in any way. And isn't named Constance. Or Nine Ball." Rose's voice was a faint squeak, and she was flushing heavily.  _Right. Not Constance or Nine Ball her goddamn ass. The fuck did they send her?_

"Why don't you tell the unimportant person you'll call them later? My personal shopper is bringing over dinner from that French place you like, and the articles of the idiots in the yard won't be posted till tomorrow at the fucking earliest."

"You're amazing, Daph. Not just for that! You're just incredible."  _Damn right she was._ Daphne let out a sultry giggle and pressed herself as tightly against Rose as she could without toppling the woman over. 

"You're pretty fucking awesome too, Rose Weil. I think I might have to keep you." She really,  _really_ hoped Rose would figure that one out.

"Like as your designer?" Daphne nearly facepalmed.  _No, as your fucking wife you beautiful wonderful IDIOT._

"If you like. Although I hope you don't think you're  _just_ a designer to me! You really are my favorite person, not just a source of fabulous outfits." 

"You're my favorite too! I mean, I love the others, I do, but..."

"I love you too, darling. And I certainly intend to enjoy your company as long as possible."

"Right! Um, well...I promise I'm not going anywhere! Except Paris for fashion week...But that's not what you meant, was it?" Daphne shook her head.

"Not quite, baby." She had definitely noticed Rose hadn't mentioned getting a new apartment. That was a good fucking sign! Daphne was ready to maybe casually mention how much it meant to her to see Rose insulting Claude on her behalf, when the doorbell rang.  _Of fucking course_ it would ring now of all times. FUCK. She stood to get the food, exaggerating the sway of her hips. In the background, she could hear Rose let out a strangled yelp and smirked. Opening the door, she collected the takeout containers and wine, confused to find a single rose on top of them. She looked at her personal shopper, confused.

" _What it this?"_ She asked, whispering.

 _"Dunno, miss. The doorman put it on"_ Daphne rolled her eyes. Good old Andre.  She took the food in one hand and the rose in the other. Dropping the containers on the table, she presented the flower to the actual Rose. The woman was blushing so hard Daphne worried her head would explode. Pouring the wine, she was pleasantly surprised when Rose pulled out her chair for her. She sank down into it and started to split up the containers of food, occasionally asking the name of this or that thing because hey, Rose Weil speaking French was pretty fucking hot. She lifted her glass in a toast.

"Here's to you, Rose. You mean more to me than I can say, even if you did help everyone make me puke at the met gala. I can''t think of a single person I'd rather move in with." She took a measured sip of her wine. Getting drunk near Rose was a  _bad_ idea. Rose, on the other hand, downed half the glass.  _Little nervous, babe?_ Daphne had never met Drunk Rose. She swore to herself she wouldn't try anything, but it might still be fun to watch. Rose deserved to relax for a bit.

**Thirty minutes, many flirty comments, and an entire bottle of Bordeaux later**

Rose was clearly fucking plastered. The tip off could have been the hiccups. Or the lack of coordination. (Daphne would have to call a drycleaner tomorrow for Rose's blouse) Or the undisguised ogling. If it were anyone else she'd slap them, but it was Rose, so of course she was going to claim the room was "really hot" and keep her shirt all the way unbuttoned. What really did it was the complete lack of filter. Rose had been on a rant for the last...ten minutes, according to her watch. All Daphne had to do was mention a topic (and forget being subtle about it) and Rose was off. So far Daphne had learned that the designer was terrified of flying, had married someone by accident in the 80's (which was thankfully over), participated in the heist both due to her financial trouble but also to prove that she could do daring things, and was painfully not straight. She didn't actually say that, but as an experiment Daphne had mentioned Kiera Knightly and off Rose had went. Clearly, the babbling about how hot people were wasn't confined to just Daphne. She wasn't sure whether to be happy with the confirmation or jealous. 

"-she may be hot but then you showed up and good _Lord._ I thought stealing the Toussaint would be, not easy, but I felt  _so_ bad about lying and when you showed up afterward I was so happy because at least you knew and you weren't mad at me and now we're friends and it's amazing! At least I think we're friends? Even though you're so lovely and sometimes that confuses me a bit because I'm not supposed to think so much about how pretty my friends are. I love you so much! And I'm living here with you and it's wonderful! I never want to leave. I don't know why." Rose turned to her and grabbed her hands, looking into her eyes. "It's a secret. You can't tell Daphne. I think you're not supposed to tell friends you want to be with them all the time. It's a bit creepy." Rose looked very upset with herself.

"Cross my heart. I won't tell a fucking soul."

"Oh thank you! You're lovely too! Not as much as Daphne, even though you look like her. And are wearing her perfume! I just like her so,  _so much_ and I don't know what to  _do!_ " 

 _Well then._ Daphne poured Rose a glass of water and put it in front of her. She had not thought this through. The poor woman was either going to forget tonight had happened or be absolutely mortified in the morning. Daphne wasn't sure which would be worse, long-term. "I think it might be time for you to go to bed, Rose."

Rose looked scandalized. "At least buy a girl dinner first, love." Okay then. That could be arranged. Daphne helped Rose up and guided her to the guest bedroom. She sat her down on the bed, helping her out of her shoes. The blouse would have go, it was covered in wine, but that's where Daphne drew the line. Stripping drunk people was just not okay. Rose had curled up in a ball among the pillows, looking up at her like she hung the fucking moon. "Can you stay? Please?" Okay, Daphne really was not sure of the "right" response to that question. But they had shared a bed before, so it wouldn't be inappropriate, right? Fuck it, Drunk Rose was adorable and impossible to say no to. Daphne sprawled out on the bed, Rose attaching herself to her like a fucking koala. She smiled. Future Daphne could deal with this shit show. Current Daphne was going the fuck to sleep.

 

 


	12. In Which Rose Has A Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Hungover!Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Tatnea14 for being awesome, and remy-roman, who made a REALLY AWESOME THING FOR THIS FIC ON TUMBLR. Everyone should go look them up immediately!

**Day six, around ten am**

Rose awoke to a soft body next to hers and a sense of extreme vertigo.  _Why on earth is the room spinning? Do rooms in rich people's houses do that? Why is Daphne spinning- **why is Daphne here. I'm not wearing a shirt WHY AM I NOT WEARING A SHIRT WITH DAPHNE.**_ _owwwww. why is everything paaaaiiiin._ Rose needed aspirin and caffeine. Then she could figure out what, exactly, she had done the night before. Strangely, there was a glass of water and aspirin propped helpfully on her bedside table. Rose downed them and lay back down on the bed.  _Ok. So. I moved in with Daphne. I had dinner with Daphne. I told Daphne....A lot of things. Oh my God a LOT a lot of things. And then?...And then she put my drunken arse to bed. Right. Because friends do that. Okay._ Clearly, Rose had two options. Face the music on all the embarrassing things she said last night, or pretend to have no memory of any of it. She could do this! She could be an adult and apologize, and things would be fine. Adults got drunk together all the time. She would-She would pick option B. Like a coward. That's exactly what she'd do. 

Daphne stirred on the bed next to her, stretching like a cat. "Good morning, Rosie!"

"...Good morning?" Rose blinked at her confusedly. "Daph, why am I in your bed?"

"...You don't remember shit, do you?" Daphne looked up at her from her sprawled position on the bed. "Can't say I'm surprised. You drank, like, an  _entire_ bottle of wine. I tried to stop you, I swear."

Rose did remember Daphne trying to confiscate the bottle. Rose remembered a lot of things she wouldn't be mentioning. "Thank you. For the aspirin. I'm  _so_ sorry I was a wreck, you didn't sign up to be my babysitter as I drank myself half to death."

Daphne raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "Rosie, baby, that's what friends are for, I think. Besides, you're a really cute drunk." She arched her back, sighing contentedly. Rose's mind took a merry trip to the gutter.  _SINCE WHEN DID SHE THINK ABOUT DAPHNE LIKE THAT? **She thought about celebrities like that all the time-** this was not a celebrity this was a friend. Who was not into her like that. No matter how she may act sometimes. Daphne was like that. _

"Right. In that case, have you seen my shirt? I appear to have misplaced it last night."  _And it would be very helpful if she buttoned hers!_ Rose flushed. Daphne had thrown off the blankets and moved right next to Rose.  _She did that a lot, didn't she?_ For completely normal reasons, Rose was sure.

"I sent it to the dry cleaner. Breakfast is also on the way. I figured cooking with what little I have in the kitchen that hasn't spoiled was a bad idea."

"Right." Rose made a mental note to cook dinner that night to impress- _not to impress Daphne. To be a good guest. Which she definitely hadn't been. "_ That was very kind of you. Thank you, Daphne."

"It's really no problem. It's not like it's fucking difficult to be nice to you."  _She is the most wonderful woman alive._

"You're wonderful. Now, I need a new shirt. And quite possibly a shower."  _And basic willpower. And for Daphne to button her bloody shirt. Or not._

"Of course. I asked my assistant to run and grab clothes from your store. You always keep all your stuff there anyway."

Rose smiled. "You're an angel." Daphne grinned, basking in the praise. 

"More like some sort of demon, babe. I'm going to go get changed."  _She can have my soul! Or anything else she wants!_

Rose sighed in relief as Daphne made her exit. She wasn't happy she was gone, but she was grateful she had time to pull herself together.  _Never again. I am never drinking with Daphne Kluger again._ Rose turned on the shower, taking in "her" room for the first time as she waited for it to heat up. Apparently, living with a millionaire actress had its benefits. The thread count of her sheets was reason enough to never leave, and then there was Daphne herself... _Wait a minute._

_She wanted to live with Daphne forever. Daphne was beautiful. Really, really beautiful. Daphne was nice and smart and so brilliant...Oh bullocks._

_Daphne liked girls. Rose liked girls? Rose liked Daphne. **Rose liked Daphne.**_ It all made sense now. Rose liked Daphne. Rose wanted to kiss Daphne- _She wanted to marry Daphne. Oh dear._

Rose had no idea how to handle the current situation. None at all. Picking up her phone, she typed out an email to Constance and Nine Ball. Ignoring the..inappropriate attachments to their last email, she sent of a frantic missive and stepped in the shower.

_U 2 were rite. What do i do?_


	13. In Which Google Can't Solve Everything, Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has no idea how one courts a movie star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To lesbianfrog. Xxoo.

**Day 6, a few minutes later**

Rose stepped out of the shower and checked her phone. She wasn't actually certain Constance and Nine Ball would be very helpful. Last night, after all, they sent her links to a lesbian sex guide. With illustrations. It really was quite distracting! And they had said she had a crush on Daphne, she just...Hadn't quite believed them. And now she had possibly ruined everything.

_vrrp!_

Her phone buzzed. She had....Forty-three unread texts?

She opened the messaging app. Apparently, she was now in a group chat called "Harold, They're Lesbians!" Rose wasn't sure who Harold was. Or who was a lesbian. Apparently, though, the entire team sans Daphne was in it. That was mean, excluding her, wasn't it?

Text from 9 ball: DO NOT INVTE DAPH! THIS IS 4 US TO HELP U WITH HER!

Oh. Well, that explained it.

Text from Lou Miller: ...This is still going on? Still? How are they not together by now?

Text from Constance: Ya, bt Rose nos now. So tht's gud, rite?

Debbie Ocean: She didn't KNOW? 

Rose began to type: Wht do u mean, "Still going on"?

Everyone stopped typing.

Constance: O sht

9 Ball: Homegirl has no clue. 

Tammy: Rose, dear, everyone has wanted you and Daphne to get together for ages. We were just...Surprised that hadn't happened.

Everyone else seemed to agree with that statement.

Rose: So what do i do? how do you date celebrities?

Amita: Maybe try google?

Google was less than helpful. It redirected her to an article on stalking.

Debbie Ocean: Just...Don't get drunk with her again. Start there.

Lou Miller: Just fucking kiss the girl.

Constance: Sha la la la la la my oh my! Look at poor Rose, to shy!

Tammy: So you can text in proper English to quote Disney?

Constance: Its Disney! Duh!

9 Ball: I can get her google searches if that helps?

Tammy: 9 Ball NO!

Constance: 9 Ball YES!1!

Debbie Ocean: 9 Ball don't you dare.

Lou Miller: 9 Ball don't piss off my girlfriend

9 Ball: 9 ball no...

Amita: Good luck rose!

Rose closed the group chat. That was... Not helpful at all. Daphne was probably waiting for her anyway. With breakfast. In her apartment, where Rose also lived. With no one else there.  _Hopefully her personal shopper brought nutella._ Rose changed into clean clothes and entered the kitchen. Once again, Daphne was not properly dressed. The silk robe she was wearing came to mid-thigh at most. It was sheer. Rose was staring.  _Stop it! This is very rude!_ "Good morning, Daph!"

"Good morning!" Daphne flung open the silverware drawer, grabbing forks and slamming it shut. "Sorry, I forgot you must be pretty hungover. But I have greasy food and coffee!" 

Rose sat at the table and grabbed a takeout container of bacon and eggs. "You're amazing. Is everything quite all right?"

Daphne turned toward her faster than Rose though possible. "Why wouldn't it be?" Her voice sounded similarly to her panic attack during the Met Gala fittings. Standing up, Rose surveyed the room, trying to find whatever was making her unhappy. Her eyes stuck on Daphne's cell phone, almost buried in couch cushions, which were strewn all over the room. 

"Paps write something bad?"

"Worse. Penelope  _fucking_ Stern. I am going to fucking-"

Rose picked up the phone. Apparently, Penelope had been interviewed by TMZ about Rose and Daphne's "relationship," since Rose had "almost designed her dress." Apparently Penelope had made several comments about Daphne's advancing age, (nonexistent) proclivities toward infidelity, and how "Rose Weil ought to run for the hills if she knows what's good for her."

Penelope  _fucking_ Stern indeed. 

"Daphne! She's a jealous cow, I agree, but good Gods woman. Are these "Tee Em Zee" people blind? Or really ruddy stupid?"

"Yes. To both those things."

"Exactly right, love." Rose towed Daphne over to a mirror, reminiscent of the last time this had happened. This time there was no necklace to sell. "Daphne, you are magnificent. You helped steal a necklace that creature would be lucky to see in a museum because people were so desperate for you to represent them! Debbie Ocean ended up folding to you when it came down to it.  'Advancing age' my arse. Who does that botox-happy harpy think she is?" Daphne still looked furious, but she was smiling. That was something. "Penelope Stern would date Claude Becker _for real_! That's how bloody hare-brained the woman is." Daphne started giggling.  _Oh thank God. I swear I'm going to murder that woman..._ While homicide was rarely a good idea, "It made Daphne Kluger happy" would sway any jury, in Rose's opinion.  

"You really are too good to me." Daphne closed her eyes, clearly trying to hide the fact she was near tears.  _Definitely killing her. If I'm going to prison it'll be for a good reason at least._ She smiled down at Rose. "Go eat. You must be so nauseous..."

"What about you? You have to eat. I'm not your designer anymore, I'm your friend, and if you say you haven't eaten in three bloody days..."

"Rose, relax. Look, I'm eating too. Are friends always this fucking pushy?"

"Imagine what Tammy would say about this. Or Lou?"

"Good point. Don't tell them."

"Eat, then." Rose could never betray Daphne's trust like that anyway, but maybe she just wouldn't mention that bit?...

Being near Daphne during mealtimes turned out to be a mistake. Rose really ought to have learned from their breakfast at the loft that the woman was a constant source of distracting noises, but noooo. It really was hard to think around her. And Rose needed to think, because she had no idea how to go about convincing her they really ought to just spend the rest of their lives together, starting now. That might be coming on a bit too strong? 

_vrrp!_

Constance: You're in the paper!

Attached was an article on some gossip site detailing the "lurid details" of her relationship with Daphne. Apparently, they were getting married in June? Rose's eyebrows were in her hairline. "What're you reading that's more interesting than me?"  _uhhhhhhhh crap._

"It's actually about you. And me. You and me. Together. Involved. Romantically involved, together. Engaged, apparently."  _Very_ eloquent. _Daphne's clearly swooning._

"Engaged?" Daphne held out her hand for the phone. Rose handed it over, praying she didn't go through her texts.  _Why would Daphne even do that?..._

"Hmmm. Clearly we have good taste as a couple."

"Huh?"  _Really. That's all she could muster, "huh?" UGH._

"Apparently we're having the wedding of the century. I had no idea you proposed to me at the Gala after months of secret dating. Really, Rosie, you should've been clearer!"

_Uhhhh. Engaged? Wedding? Proposed?! MET GALA!? What do i do what do i do what do i do?!_

"My apologies. Next time I beg you to marry me I'll make sure you understand that's what I'm doing, love."  _Well that was...Vaguely witty? She's smiling. She's smiling! Oh thank goodness._

"Mmm...Maybe I'll have to ask you. To prevent any more...miscommunications?"  _UMMMMMMM_

"Perfect!...Because, um, clearly I'm a better option than Claude? And we're already living together, and..."

"And you adore me?"

"Exactly!" Daphne preened under the attention.  _Shit. Crap shit bullocks bloody fucking hell. Someone make me shut up!_

"Don't worry dear, I promise I won't drag you to a chapel."

"You wouldn't have to!"  _Did she say that out loud? She said that out loud. Shit. SHIT._

"June it is then, at some point! As long as Penelope Stern is  _not_ invited."

_Wait. Did Daphne just agree to marry her?_

 


	14. In Which Admissions Are Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are admitted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To im_always_down_to_hide_with_you, who is also writing a Rose/Daphe fic that's pretty great. You should check it out!

**Day six, after breakfast**

Daphne was feeling much better after her fucking meltdown. What was that? She was lucky Rose hadn't headed for the fucking hills. Although Daphne supposed Rose being awesome about crap like that is why she wanted to have her babies in the first place. Except maybe not literally. The press could be such shit about weight-gain, after all. 

Rose had sort of proposed. Without stuttering or panicking at all. Daphne wasn't sure where the sudden lack of confusion and fear came from, but she was here. For. It. And yes, maybe suggesting a wedding date was a bit heavy handed but she was running out of ideas here, okay? She flopped down onto her bed, peering out her windows. The multitudes of photographers still loomed on the sidewalk. Daphne was tempted to just start throwing things at them, but that might cause a lawsuit. 

It really was fucking ridiculous, the situation. She, Daphne Kluger, had been fucking dumb enough to fall in love. And here she was, being all respectful of other people's feelings and not doing shit about it, while the object of her affections was literally living with her. Daphne knew it was the right, "nice person" way of doing things, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She liked her relationship with Rose and it wasn't that she was annoyed by the way they were, but  _come on._ She was ninety-nine percent positive the woman liked her back. She just kind of needed some form of confirmation or permission, and then they were set. Who knows, maybe they could be married next June. Or maybe not June. Too...traditional. 

Daphne huffed. The whole "being a respectful human" thing sucked. She was a criminal for fuck's sake. But, rules were rules, self made or not. She literally always got what she wanted and was sure this would be no different. Again, Rose had sort of proposed. That was fucking progress, wasn't it? Maybe that was it. Stop trying the whole seduction angle and start acting more...domestic? Would that work? The Claude Beckers of the world didn't want domset-Oh. Rose wasn't like that. Rose was all emotional and empathetic and stuff. Well, Daphne needed a new plan, because running around half dressed and having everything she said be an innuendo for something else wasn't working fast enough. Reaching for her cell-phone, she dialed Debbie. If anyone knew about being disgustingly domestic, it was she and Lou.

**Approximately thirty minutes and five pages of notes later.**

Yeah, okay. That was a fucking horrible idea. Apparently, those two knew a ton about relationships that already existed, but pretty much got together by making out drunk one too many times. She wasn't getting Rose drunk again. That had been a horrible idea too. She was about ready to just write "Guess fucking what? I'm in love with you!" on a poster and leave it somewhere. Or something. Except the whole idea of "Get Rose To Say It First" was so she wouldn't feel pressured to say yes. Daphne was well aware she was  _really_ hard to say no to. Just as she was considering scrapping the whole plan thing and just winging it, her phone rang. 

"Tammy?"

_"Daphne! How goes the roommate situation?_

"Horrible. She still hasn't admitted she's in love with me."

_"...Oh?"_

"I know! It's like, does she not see it, or is she just afraid of rejection? I've tried everything I can think of to get her to crack and I'm just...stuck. It sucks."

_"...Right. Um...Have you tried maybe asking her? Or have we eliminated that for whatever the reason?"_

"That's not happening. Ever."

Tammy sighed over the phone.  _"Right. Well, I was told to call you because you clearly need help, but everyone else is terrified of you."_

"Then fucking HELP ME!"

_"Okay, then. Maybe admit it some way she doesn't have to respond?"_

"...What the fuck are you talking about?"

_"Open your bedroom door. Is she nearby?"_

Daphne peered out to check. "Yes."

_"And if you talked somewhat loudly, could she hear you?"_

"Yes?"

_"Perfect. Say all the things she somehow hasn't figured out into the phone, loudly. She'll hear you, and then she can decide what to do about it."_

Daphne rolled her eyes. However, she was out of ideas. She took a deep breath and began sort-of-yelling into the phone. "THAT'S RIGHT! SHE STILL HASN'T FIGURED OUT I'M IN LOVE WITH HER!" She could see Rose turn toward her room, trying to eavesdrop. "I KNOW IT'S RIDICULOUS. YES, SHE'S LIVING IN MY APARTMENT. YES, SHE KNOWS I'M GAY. LOOK! I, DAPHNE KLUGER, WANT TO DATE AND/OR MARRY ROSE WEIL. I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO MAKE HER SEE THAT. I'VE GIVEN UP ON SUBTLETY. AT THIS POINT I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S NOT INTERESTED." Rose looked shellshocked.  _She seriously had no idea, did she?_ Daphne was considering continuing, really she was, when the object of her affections collapsed in a faint. "Shit! Tam, I'm gonna have to call you back. She just fucking fainted. Please tell me you know first aid?"  _FUCK!_

 


	15. In Which Daphne Is Not a Good Nurse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Rose fainted. Daphne admitted her love. Eveyone on the Heist Team is cringing. And that's what you missed on "Just Kiss Already!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To im_always_down_to_hide_with_you, lesbianfrog, and ESPECIALLY Tatnea14. Because you seem to put more effort into your damn comments that I do into my SAT prep, and you make my day. Love ya babe!

**Day six, early morning**

"Rose? Rose! Please wake the fuck up!"

_Why was Daphne trying to wake her up? She liked this dream. Dream Daphne was in love with her. Oh no, she didn't want to wake up._

"Rose Weil, if you don't wake up..."  _Was Daphne crying? Daphne was crying. Over her._ Rose may have not wanted to wake up quite yet, but Daphne was not being sad because of her. She was waking up NOW.

"Ugh...." Daphne collapsed on top of her, head on her chest.

"Oh, thank fucking God you're up. You hit you head on the fucking coffee table. I was worried as shit!" Wait. Why did she?...

"What happened?" _She had hit her head, and then had that lovely dream, and then she woke up?..._ Rose was confused.

"You fucking fainted, Rose. And then you hit your head. Never do that again."

"...Right. Promise. No more fainting." Why did she faint, again? Last time she did that it was because an assistant she wasn't aware was straight had announced he was in love with her. In her defence, it did diffuse the situation rather quickly. Rose blinked up at the ceiling. She  _should_ try to get up, she really should, but Daphne was still using her as a pillow for some reason? Rose stayed where she was. "M'sorry for scaring you, love." 

"...Are you serious? You faint, and you first thought is SORRY I FUCKING SCARED YOU?!" Daphne was sitting beside her now. She looked...Terrifying. And gorgeous. Mostly terrifying.

"...Should it have been something else, Daph?" 

Daphne huffed. "Really? You can't think of  _anything_ else that you might find important?"

 _Bloody Hell. What had she forgotten? What was it? Shitshitshit. Ummm..._ "...Why did I faint?" Rose knew asking that was a bit of  risk, but she was very confused and possibly concussed and she just wanted to know what phrase was going to make Daphne happy That was all she wanted!...Crap. She had said that out loud. That too. Wait, why couldn't she stop talking? Was this what concussions were like?

"Shit! I don't know how to treat a concussion!" Daphne lifted her phone. "TAMMY! SHE CAN'T STOP TALKING AND I THING SHE HAS A CONCUSSION. WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?!" Oh. Tammy was there! Tammy fixed everything! Except the funny feeling she had when Daphne was sad. Why was Daphne sad, again? Oh right. She had fainted. Why had she done that?

Daphne winced. "Right. No idea why she fainted. She doesn't remember." What didn't she remember? "Perfect, Have Andre send them up when they arrive." Daphne turned toward Rose. "Don't move. Just...stay the fuck there and the doctor will be here soon. I'm so fucking sorry, Rosie." What did Daphne do, again? Besides be generally perfect and amazing. Rose wished the dream was real. That would have been perfect. 

"Also, I think she may have hallucinated a bit? She keeps mentioning some dream while she was out."

Rose wasn't quite sure how Daphne could here her thoughts. Had she always been able to do that? That wouldn't have been good. She though lots of things about Daphne no one was supposed to know. Why was Daphne sticking her fingers in her ears and humming? 

"She doesn't want you to hear this. La la la, I''m not listening to this!" Was Daphne alright? Maybe she was concussed too. Rose hoped not!

Someone knocked on the door. "Oh thank God." Daphne went to go answer it. A strange man entered the room and started looking into Rose's eyes and saying things. She wanted him to leave. She wanted to be alone with Daphne. Daphne was on the phone again. She was crying. It made Rose sad, that Daphne was crying and she couldn't fix it. What was wrong? She wasn't sure. Everything was fuzzy around the edges and the man was saying more things and then people were carrying her. She was in a bed that wasn't hers and Daphne was holding her hand. It was almost worth it, then. Even if Daphne was still crying. She adored Daphne. Daphne was there, and holding her hand, and then everything was black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T KILL ME. SHE'S NOT SERIOUSLY HURT, SHE'S JUST WOOZY AND TALKATIVE. Which come to think of it is just Normal Rose. Daphne is a bit frustrated, but it'll ALL be ok! Promise! (Ok I have no plan but EVERYTHING IS FINE!)


	16. In Which Daphne Wonders If She Offended A God Or Something (Seriously, Fuck Karma)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daphne is panicking, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Tatnea14, lesbianfrog, Marl, A_Reader, and im_always_down_to_hide_with_you.

**Day six, late evening.**

Seriously? SERIOUSLY? She didn't even fucking remember. And was unconscious again. Daphne didn't know how to deal with this shit, okay? In her movies, everything just kinda...worked itself out. This was  _not_ "working itself out." This was weaving itself into a giant fucking shit show. Was this the universe telling her to give up? Well, the universe could kiss her ass. Now, how did you take care of sick people?

The movies said you were supposed to keep them in bed and make sure they ate a lot of soup. That seemed about right. She normally would hire someone for this, but it was  _Rose._ Who knew, maybe when super out-of-her-head she'd have more common sense and notice Daphne was super fucking into her. With new purpose, she regretfully left her place at Rose's bedside to call her shopper and order eight orders of chicken soup and "Everything for mild head injuries the pharmacy has." That turned out to be a lot of things. Soup heating on the stove (On low. She had learned her lesson about high heat in the loft.) Daphne looked through her purchases. Lots of gauze. Some ice packs. Apparently, you didn't give potentially-concussed people painkillers. Daphne was kind of glad. After seeing drunk Rose and injured Rose, she was kind of apprehensive about meeting stoned Rose. That would be a fucking trip.

Rose still wasn't moving. Apparently, that meant Daphne should wake her up for some reason. "Rose. Rosie? The Doctor said you needed to wake up every few hours.  _Rose._ Open your eyes right fucking now."

"Mrrrng? Ugh." Daphne had...No idea what Rose had just attempted to say. None.

"...That's absolutely right. You need to open your eyes." Rose blinked, smiling up at her. More like grimacing, but Daphne was looking on the fucking bright side, okay? 

"Dfffne? Whrr doin'?" What...Just, what did that mean? Daphne moved a piece of hair out of Rose' face and tried to look like a competent caregiver. She was an actress. She had convinced Claude Becker she wanted him after meeting  _Rose Weil_ of all people. She could do this!

"How do you feel?"

"UGH." Okay. Daphne understood what that meant. 

"I'm not allowed to give you painkillers yet. I'm so sorry, Rosie." Rose let out a pained whimper and closed her eyes. 

"No! You aren't allowed to go back to sleep yet!" Daphne knew she sounded a little hysterical, but  _Rose was hurt,_ okay? Fuck professionalism or whatever.

"Wanna sleep. Hurts." She was getting more coherent. That was good, right?

"...Do you want some water? That might help. Here, just...Drink."

"Don't wanna." Rose had apparently regressed int being extremely uncooperative. Fuck. What was she supposed to do?

Daphne put on her best pout. "Please? For me?" That had always worked before. She had never tried it on someone too woozy to potentially care about their hormones, but it was her only plan.

"...L'right." Oh thank  _God._ Daphne helped Rose get into a sort-of sitting position in the bed. She swallowed about a half glass of water before she reverted to not cooperating. Daphne was calling that a victory. "Had a dream about you. Said you were in love with me." Rose snorted. "As if. Musta really banged me 'ead." The accent apparently was stronger when concussed. Was that good or bad?

She remembered! She thought she had been dreaming, but she remembered! And evidently thought the whole scenario to be ridiculous. How.  _How_ was she unaware Daphne loved her?  _You beautiful disaster woman._ She was lucky she was so perfect.

Rose had dropped off to sleep again. Daphne let her be. Rest was important, right? She curled up next to her. Rose might need her in the middle of the night. That made it okay, right? Her future wife not dying or something was more important than ethics right now. "Good night, Rose. I love you." Rose didn't stir. Daphne fell asleep stroking her hair.

* * *

**Day seven, early morning.**

Daphne woke up with Rose halfway on top of her. The woman apparently slept like a fucking starfish. Whatever, she could live with that. "Rose? Ro-ose. It's morning. You really, really need to wake up again."

"No." Daphne let out a very unladylike snort. Apparently in-pain Rose was a very decisive creature.

"Baby, you need to wake up. You need to eat."

"Nope. Don wanna." Rose shook her head and pressed more firmly against Daphne. The universe was  _really_ testing her this morning. 

"Rose. If you eat, I can give you pain medicine. It's been long enough." 

There was thirty seconds of silence as Rose contemplated her options. "...Fine." 

Soup wasn't a breakfast food, right? She called Tammy, and got a five minute lecture on "How Hard Is It To Eat Fruits?" Okay, then. Fruit for breakfast it was. Bringing the food into Rose's room, she was greeted with a groan. 

"Why're the lights off? I can't see you. Tha's dumb. I like seeing you." Well, she was using full sentences. That was good.

"I read on the internet people with concussions shouldn't have bright lights."

"I'm not concussed, Daph." 

Putting the food in Rose's lap, Daphne raised an eyebrow. "You fainted and hit your head on a coffee table. That's not good."

"Why'd I do that, anyway?" Fuck. Shit.

"Not sure. Maybe you saw or heard something shocking?"

"...Like what? Another bloody article?" No. Like a phone call!

"...Nothing about those things is surprising. Eat your food."

"Thanks, Daph. Prob'ly not what you expected when I moved in."

"No, not exactly." I expected you'd have caved by now...

"You look lovely today, you know."

Was she hallucinating again? "Rose, you can't see me. The lights are off."

Rose laughed. "Don't need to, love." So, not hallucinating. Just really sweet. And she couldn't kiss her. This was a fucking hate crime. 

"...Eat, Rose. The doctor comes in two hours to tell me if you have a fucking concussion." She better not be fucking concussed.


	17. In Which Rose Does Not Have A Concussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is not concussed. She is still very confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everybody who commented on this thingy

**Day seven, afternoon**

Apparently, Rose wasn't concussed. That was good, as Daphne immediately became less restrictive on what she was and wasn't allowed to do. She ordered her to stay in bed "In case she fainted again." It really wasn't so bad. Daph had turned the lights back on, and Rose was right. She did look lovely today. And every day, really.

Daphne didn't appear to know how to care for sick people, but she was excellent at entertaining them. She had stayed at Rose's bedside all day. They went through all the articles about them, laughing so hard Daphne almost fell off the bed.  _Really, the obsession with Daphne was understandable, but neither of them were pregnant or dying. Really, TMZ._  They had (so not accidentally) started a twitter war with a few conservative groups with very outspoken views on gay rights. Said groups were forced to deactivate their accounts after battling the force of nature that was Daphne's fans for a few hours. They were playing poker now. Correction, Daphne was beating her senseless at poker, she was sort of lying there and trying not to drool. Daphne was smiling, and they were sort of cuddling, and it was a wonderful day. 

"How are you feeling, Rose?" Daphne had taken to asking every thirty minutes. She had set a bloody timer. 

"I'm wonderful, Daph. I promise." She was, really. Daphne was with her, the painkillers had kicked in, and every time Daph smiled at her she forgot all the reasons she was supposed to be sad. There was something about an unrequited crush and homelessness and a crazed mob outside, but Rose was unconcerned. Daphne seemed willing to protect her from all comers, as did Daphne's fanbase. Apparently, there was "fanfic" of them now. Rose wasn't sure what exactly that was, but Daphne thought it was hysterical, so obviously it couldn't be that bad.

Daphne tossed down another handful of cards. Rose swore it was her third royal flush in a row. How was that possible? Daphne tossed the cards up in the air, grinning widely. Rose could see the corner of a queen poking out of her sleeve.  _Of course._ She grabbed the offending section of the garment and tugged. Cards went flying, and Daphne collapsed dramatically next to her, sticking out her tongue.  _What had she been thinking about? Something about Daphne, surely._ Her mouth had gone dry. Daphne was tucked up against her, toying with her hair. Rose sighed.  _That felt really good._ Maybe she'd just stay here in bed with Daphne forever? That sounded like a good plan. She tossed an arm over the actress and smiled. This was a wonderful plan. Daphne seemed pleased with the idea as well. She curled closer to Rose, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Rose flushed. She could feel her pulse in her ears.  _This is the best day. Ever._

"Hi." Rose wasn't sure why she was talking. Not talking seemed like a really good idea, actually. She should stop. She should stop doing  _so_ many things.  _Like staring at Daphne. And wanting to kiss Daphne. And yelling at Claude on twitter. Maybe not that last one._

"Hi." Daphne seemed decidedly amused at Rose's current lack of coherence.  _That's sort of good?_ Daphne picked up her cell phone, waving it above their heads. "Want to give the press outside a fucking heart attack?"  _Yes. Yes she did. They were dreadful._ Rose nodded. Daphne turned on the camera, making sure it caught their close proximity. "Hey Twitter! I'm here in my apartment with Rose Weil, because the fucking paparazzi outside sucks." At this point, she waved to the camera. Rose followed suit. Daphne's evil grin was kind of contagious. "I've enclosed their handles and emails below. If you want to be awesome, tell them what you think of being creepy ass stalkers. In the meantime, I guess we'll wait here. Love you all, but not as much as I love Rose!" She disconnected and pressed post, winking. Rose was still processing that last bit.  _Holy crap. HOLY CRAP. Was that a joke? Was it not a joke? Who knew, it was DAPHNE. Crap._

"Well. That ought to...Incite discussion."

"Bet you anything we're on the evening news."  _Anything?_

"Yes. Right. I would be very likely to believe you." 

"Hmm, pity. Not a betting woman?"  _Did Daphne want her to be?_

"Depends on the bet?"

"Whether or not we end up on Fox accused of destroying human decency. Winner gets...Anything they want from the loser."  _Ummmmm..._

"Okay!"  _Did she want to win or lose?! She had no idea._ Daphne looked positively predatory. 

"It's a bet, babe."


	18. In Which Daphne Stops Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne basically goes “fuck it”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I have school starting so updates may not happen as often as they have been. Fair warning!

**Day seven, evening**

They were on Fox news two hours later for "Attacking the press" and "Forcing their lifestyle on others." Funny how that happened. Daphne wasn't sure if that meant she had won the bet. While the rapidly perspiring man on the TV didn't actually use the words "destroying human decency," he did say that they were "ungodly" and "ruining Hollywood." So that pretty much counted, right? Daphne didn't really think the bet through. If she had won, she wasn't quite sure how to most effectively use the favor Rose would have owed her. "Marry me" might violate the "No pressuring her into saying yes" rule. It was probably for the best Rose had won on a technicality. Maybe she'd surprise her?

Rose was tweeting again. Daphne knew the second she walked in. The wide eyes and stammering were a dead giveaway. "Daphne! Your fans are..."

Daphne laughed. "Insane? Terrifying? Fucking creepy? Way too obsessed with my sex life?"

Rose looked even more petrified about the last one. "...Right. The man on the telly has deactivated his account. Along with half the paps. Also, Claude Becker threatened to sue everyone in the Rophne tag. You can't do that in jail, can you?"

...What? "The man on the news?" Rose nodded. "My fans...did what, exactly?"

"They weren't pleased with what he said. And you did post something encouraging them..." Rose looked slightly pale. "They can be quite graphic. The things they write can. And the property damage was quite extensive."

"My fans trashed their houses? Fuck, that's awesome. I meant, totally over the line?" Rose's face shone with skepticism. "Okay, yeah, I wanted that to happen. Can you blame me?"

"No. Apparently you have fans in prison. Lovely people. Were you aware? Claude wasn't." Rose was smirking slightly. "Apparently they ship us, whatever that means? Anyway, they send their regards."

If Daphne wasn't mistaken, Rose was implying she had convinced a bunch of inmates to beat up her ex via twitter.  _God, she loved that woman._ Who knew Rose had such a devious streak? Did it show up in other areas? Daphne hoped so.

"Always good to keep in touch with my fan base. By the way dear, you technically won our bet." Rose froze.

"Did I? I suppose they never technically said we were destroying decency...Just everything else." She was staring at her. "I suppose this means you owe me something?" Daphne nodded, grinning.  _Please, please let her want something rated higher than PG._ Rose sat up in bed, flustered. Her hair was a mess, and she was practically buried in pillows. Daphne had the sudden urge to squeal and/or attack the woman. 

"Any ideas? I always pay my debts, promise." Batting her eyes, she made her voice sound as sexual as possible. _Please, please get the idea._ She leaned forward as far as could be considered appropriate. Daphne didn't really have a plan anymore, so she was running on instinct, here. Rose, to her credit, didn't faint again. 

"Right then! I will...Think about that." The blush on her face confirmed that the idea wouldn't be leaving her head for quite some time.

"Alright, Rosie. Anything you want, just say the word."  _Seriously. Just...UGH._ Daphne leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to go order dinner. Try not to hit your head while I'm gone."

_Hold it. Rose thought Daphne saying she was in love with her was a dream. She didn't think it was a bad or stupid dream, just unlikely for some reason. Conclusion: Having it happen again wouldn't be unwelcome. She's surrounded by pillows. there is no way she can faint again, right?_

Daphne pulled out her phone, beginning to get excited about this idea. She peeked into her bedroom, where she had insisted they put Rose. She was staring out the window, but very much alert. Daphne put the cell phone to her ear and began scream-talking, getting an intense sense of deja-vu. "HI LOU. YES, YOU'VE BEEN VERY FUCKING HELPFUL ON HOW TO GET THE GIRL. SO FUCKING HELPFUL, SHE THINKS SHE WAS FUCKING DREAMING. RIGHT, ROSE HAS  **NO IDEA** I WANT TO FUCKING MARRY HER LIKE THE TABLOIDS SUGGESTED." Daphne glanced into the bedroom again. Rose appeared to be texting madly, periodically looking in her direction. "I WOULD HAVE KISSED HER BY NOW IF CONSENT WEREN'T A THING. YES, SHE THINKS THE LAST TIME I SAID IT WAS A DREAM." Rose's mouth was wide opened, and she appeared to be hyperventilating. Time to end the call. "FUCK OFF, LOU. I AM NOT GOING TO GIVE UP. JUST...I GOTTA GO." Daphne "hung up" the phone. Rose was still conscious. That was good. For better or worse, she knew. Daphne sent a quick text to her personal shopper to get dinner, and lots of wine just in case. It was probably better to let Rose process that information for a bit. If she fainted again...Daphne would commit a damn murder. She flopped onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Rose would have to come out of the bedroom sooner or later, damn it. 


	19. In Which Rose Gets Her Shit Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a wild guess, guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for your support in this. School starts again for me soon, so updates may slow a bit. Sorry!

**Day Seven, evening.**

_Oh my God. Oh my God oh my God, ohmyGod. It wasn't a dream. IT WASN'T A DREAM._ Rose was...panicking slightly. It was all very well to fall for someone perfect and unobtainable, but then she wasn't so unobtainable, was she? Rose could just...Go out there. And kiss her. And not get slapped.  _Be worth it if she did, though._ Daphne was in love with her. Take that, stupid negative voices in her head! She should go out there. She  _wanted_ to go out there. 

She was frozen. She had been staring at the skyline for an hour.  _Right. Enough of that. She had to... Get up. She was going to get up and make a plan from there._

Rose quickly discovered that it is very difficult to get out of bed when a well-meaning person buries you in blankets and makes you stay there the whole day. It took several minutes of struggling with her bedding, but she got herself out. Only to realize she was wearing pyjamas.  _Were those appropriate for dramatic declarations of love?_ Probably not. Rising, Rose searched through the room trying to find something to wear. She then realized she was in Daphne's bedroom and her clothes weren't there. Pyjamas would have to do. Surveying her reflection in the mirror, she realized she was the literal definition of bedhead.  _Dear God, why the bloody hell is that woman interested in me? Was it a joke?_ Daphne wouldn't do that, would she? Not to her, anyway. She tamed her errant curls and applied makeup (She was doing this while looking good. And also she was stalling.) Facing the door, she took a deep breath. She could do this. Really, she could.

Gently pushing on the door, she saw Daphne sprawled artfully on the sofa.  _She looks wonderful._ Rose skirted forward, relieved to see Daphne smile as she walked into view.  _She's looking. This is not a drill. Say something charming. Please, say something. Anything._

"Rosie! Figured out what you want from me?"  _Right. The bet. The bet that gives her anything she wants. She wanted Daphne. She couldn't say that. She couldn't just say "Marry me" could she?_

"Marry me-shit." Rose considered fleeing. She really liked the idea right now. She began to back away slowly. Daphne grabbed her wrist and yanked her onto the couch. 

"Okay. I call Tammy as my maid of honor."  _Perfect-WHAT?_

"...What?"  _This had to be a dream._

Daphne laughed at Rose's face. "Okay. As in, yes I'll fucking marry you. About damn time."

Rose was understandably dumbfounded. "...You will?" She did a cursory search of the room, looking for hidden cameras or people ready to jump out and laugh at the joke.

Daphne twisted a hand into her hair, leaning forward.  _What is happening? WHAT IS HAPPENING?_

"I will. Because I love you, you moron. Which you knew. For like two fucking seconds until you fainted."  _Right. She would faint hearing that..._ Rose tried to say something but was frozen in place, goofy smile on her face. Daphne rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Earth to Rose?"

The smile grew wider. "...You're in love with me. It isn't a dream. Or a joke, or hallucination, or-"

"Oh for fuck's sake. It's real. You're stuck with me. Good luck getting rid of me."

"That's perfect. You're perfect. I love you."  _She said it. What now? Was she supposed to do something?_

"I can hear you thinking. Stop." Rose could do that. Rose would happily do that if Daphne wanted her to. Daphne, who was getting closer for some reason-

 _Daphne was kissing her._ Daphne was kissing her, because she was in love with her, and had also agreed to marry her. Her lips were soft, and if this was a dream Rose never wanted to wake up.

Eventually, Daphne and Rose were reminded that people need to breath more than they need to make out on couches. From her perch on Daphne's lap, Rose suddenly had a thought. "Daph?"

Daphne smirked. "Hmm?"

"Why didn't you just do that before? Only a complete idiot would say no!" 

"Darling, you told me while drunk that you got married to some assistant of yours because he said he loved you and you felt bad. You're fucking unable to say no to anyone."  _Right. She did do that. That was all true._

"That...makes sense, I guess. I'm a bloody idiot for not noticing, aren't I?"

Daphne huffed, pulling Rose down and pinning her to the couch. "New rule. Stop insulting yourself or else."  _Or else what?_ Rose might like figuring out what "or else" meant. Actually, based on Daphne's expression it wasn't that kind of "or else." Right then.  

"I will...stop doing that immediately."

"Good." Adopting a smug expression, Daphne smiled down at Rose. "How exactly do you want to handle this?"

Rose had been distracted slightly. Daphne's lips were  _right there_ and her hair was soft and she could see down her shirt...

"Huh?"

"Do. You. Want. To. Tell. People. About. Us?"  _Tell people. About them. That Daphne loved her for some reason. That she was off the market, for Claude and everyone else... Yes._

"Yes! Because...Then the press will leave? And the others. They've been...helping. They should know."

"You too, huh?" Daphne picked up her cell phone. Rose could see her hitting the "relationship status" button on facebook. "What? It's an old network, but it'll spread like crazy."

"Shouldn't we call the others?"

Daphne considered that for all of three seconds. "They can be dealt with tomorrow. Now, dinner should be here in...an hour. Which gives us an hour all alone. You really want to make phone calls?"

No. No, she did not. Moving to kiss Daphne again, her last non-Daphne-related thought was that there was no way that they'd be decent by the time the food arrived. They were going to be in the damn paper again.

 

 

 


	20. In Which People Have WAY Too Many Hormones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...This happened. Writing..."Adult activities" in any sense is super fucking awkward. I never realized that reading fic. I chickened out a little bit, so the rating isn't changing.  
> I love all of you so much for commenting on this shitstorm.

**Day seven, evening.**

Halle-FUCKING-lujah! It was about time. It was way past time in Daphne's opinion, actually. That wasn't important. What was important was the fact that Rose was collapsed on her couch, lipstick a smeared mess, and had sort of proposed. Again. This time Daphne was just assuming that they were officially engaged. A bet was a bet, after all. The doorbell rang, and Daphne regretfully walked to get the food. It was just like her stupid shopper to be early and ruin the mood when she had a woman to ravish. She couldn't have waited, say, another damn hour or two? Ugh. 

She dropped the food onto the table. It could wait. Rose was peering up at her, vaguely dazed. Daphne sat back down beside her, pulling her in for a long, slow kiss. She tugged at Rose's hair, finally causing it to fall loose down her shoulders. She was so fucking gorgeous. And looking slightly distracted. That was unacceptable, as she  _knew_ there were no experienced thieves behind her with bubble guns this time. 

"Rose? Earth to Rose Weil?" Rose flushed and yanked her phone out of her pocket. It cheerfully proclaimed she had four hundred fifty-six texts from Constance, ninety-three from Amita, forty from Nine Ball, eight missed calls from Tammy, over three million Twitter and Instagram notifications, and a whopping fifteen calls and fifty-two texts from Daphne's manager.  _Well, that was quick._ Rose looked like she was about to have a panic attack. Thinking quickly, Daphne plucked the phone from her shaking hands and put it face down on the table, where it continued to buzz. 

"...It's been five bloody minutes." Yes. Yes, it had been, and then they were interrupted. Fucking hell. 

Daphne put a hand under Rose's chin, pulling her up to look her in the eye. "Is that going to bother you? Because I will sick my fans on them if they're bugging you." Her fans had adopted Rose as their own. It was fucking adorable. Any supporters of Claude Becker had been chased from her fandom in tears.

"I-It's fine, Daph. Can I just...Turn it off, and then not deal with it until tomorrow? And then not deal with it ever?" Having Rose ignore her phone sounded like a great idea. She powered the thing off and Rose visibly relaxed.  _How fucking hard would it be to lock her away without technology?_ The deluge of notifications clearly upset her, and it was ruining the mood. Tossing her own phone onto the coffee table with Rose's, she trailed a hand up the designer's thigh.

"Definitely don't deal with it now. We'll hire you someone for that." Rose nodded, clearly not entirely hearing what was being said. Daphne slid her hand higher.

"In fact, there are several things I can think of that are far more important than a bunch of fucking texts. Think you can guess what?" She grinned wolfishly. Rose was clearly not hearing anything she was saying. Pressing a kiss to her neck, Daphne decided to test exactly how distracted the woman was.

"So. I've been thinking we should get married next fall." Rose nodded slightly, eyes glazed. 

"How do you feel about adoption?" Rose muttered her assent, clearly registering she had been asked a question but unsure what it was. She was very obviously staring down Daphne's shirt again. Smirking, she pulled it off and tossed it on top of the cell phones.

Rose was paying attention now.  _Fucking thought so._ Yanking her forward, Daphne pinned her to the couch, kissing along her jawline. Rose moaned.  _This is too damn_ _easy._ Clearly, Rose was past the point of listening to anything but her hormones. It was a nice change from the woman being constantly tormented by anxiety. Food could wait for an hour or so, right?

**Approximatly two hours and a broken couch later**

Ow. Who would have thought being on collapsing furniture when it collapsed actually hurt? Why were inanimate objects trying to cockblock her? It wasn't working at all, but it was still annoying. And she needed a new damn couch. From beside her, Rose began to laugh. Which was better than her being hurt again, but slightly confusing given the situation. 

"...Are you alright, babe?" Rose looked over at her, manic grin firmly in place.

"Yes, love. I'm wonderful. You need new furniture."

Daphne was slightly confused until she looked around the apartment. Apparently, the coffee table had been somehow been damaged along with the couch. The couch had been next to an end table, which was now missing a leg and knocked over. One of Daphne's heels had broken the chandelier, which someone's undergarments were hanging from. It looked like someone had gotten drunk and trashed the place.

"Fuck."

Rose's giggles got louder. "Yes dear, that is exactly what happened." Daphne couldn't quite keep from laughing at that. Rose was seemingly inhibition-free at the moment, her apartment was trashed, and she was engaged. The world had gone fucking nuts. 

"We should deal with this." Daphne didn't want to deal with anything. 

"We probably should." Rose sounded equally hesitant.

"We should eat, and then call my assistant. And then go to bed."  _Which would hopefully not involve any goddamn sleeping._

Dinner was a slightly irrational affair. Daphne was giddy with the success of her plan, and Rose was no better. Especially after she had explained all of her attempts at getting Rose's attention over the week.

"-and you mean to tell me you got us locked in Lou's ruddy loft on purpose? Daph!" The designer collapsed into giggles, tears of mirth streaming down her face. "I can't believe you. Not one bit."

Daphne grinned, kicking Rose under the table. "But you love me any-waaaay" she sang. Rose nodded.

"I absolutely do. I really am sorry, about...All of it. Not noticing, and making you sad, and fainting, and-"

"Rose? Shh." Instead of looking more panicked like usual, Rose merely nodded, leaning back in her chair. She tossed her feet up into Daphne's lap and stretched out, still letting out the occasional giggle.  _Okay then. Just-Laid Rose is really fucking cute._ Her hair was a mess, and Daphne was pretty damn sure that top was history, but Rose looked fucking gorgeous. She was keeping her. "You can't leave."

Rose frowned. "What? Why would I want to-What?"

"You can't move out. I refuse to let you. Stay here, the IRS can go fuck itself." Rose let out a rather unladylike snort and grinned.

"Anything you want, love."

 _Be careful what you promise, babe._ "Anything?" Daphne put as much sexual emphasis on that word as possible. Rose swallowed loudly, eyes darkening. She nodded.  _Well, then._ Dinner was just about finished anyway. Some other asshole could deal with the damn mess tomorrow. She stalked toward Rose, pulling her out of her chair and towards her bedroom. Which hopefully was more flying object proof than the living room. All that was forgotten as Rose's knees hit the bed and she collapsed onto it. There was more important shit than furniture to think about.


	21. In Which Dates Never Really Go Perfectly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Tatea14, for just generally being awesome. Also im_always_down_to_hide_with_you, who is writing a getting-together-during-the-heist fic which is just...ARG ITS AMAZING READ IT.

**Day eight, seven am.**

Rose woke up to a weight on her chest and bright light in her eyes. Blinking sleepily, she examined her surroundings.  _She was in Daphne's bed again. And Daphne's head was on top of her? And she wasn't wearing clothes, what-OH._ Details from the past night flew through her brain like some kind of a lesbian technicolor whirlwind.  _Okay then._ She had slept with Daphne Kluger. Who had agreed to marry her? And they had broken a startling amount of the living room furniture. Was this a dream? She hoped not. She really, really hoped not.

"I can hear you thinking." Daphne shifted her position on Rose's chest, hands tightening around her hips.  _Good Lord, she was a vision._ A dopey smile spread across her face.

"Good morning, love." She threaded a hand through Daphne's hair, smiling as Daphne purred at the contact.  _The noises this woman makes..._ Daphne pushed herself up on her elbows, smirking down at Rose. 

"It is a very good morning." Yes, it definitely was. Rose was by no means a morning person, but she was considering converting. She watched as Daphne shoved the blankets off of herself and strode toward the bathroom. "Someone took care of the mess in the kitchen earlier. I'm going to take a shower if you wanted to join me."  _Yup. She wanted-yes. She was getting up now._ She got out of bed faster than she had in ages. Daphne grinned at her haste, best come-hither eyes firmly in place.  _Okay. Rose could really learn to like mornings._

**Day eight, approximately thirty minutes later.**

Eventually, they had made their way out of the shower. Unfortunately, that meant it was time to face the music with their assorted friends. Luckily, PR managers were a thing to handle the twitter shitstorm that was brewing. Daphne lounged on her new (significantly more durable, thankfully) couch, dragging Rose by her wrist into her lap. Rose let out a rather undignified squeak, silenced by a kiss. Kissing Daphne was certainly something she could get used to. Later, though, because they had a very awkward conference call to make. The entire team picked up on the first ring sans Tammy, who needed to chase down the child who had stolen her phone. 

"Good morning, guys!"

"FINALLY! IT FINALLY FUCKING-"

"Girl, you put this on facebook? What were you-"

"Rose Weil, if you ever put me through explaining first aid to-"

"Get it, girl! You guys are-"

"Everybody shut up. Rose and Daphne, about fucking time. Good luck with the press."

Someone snorted. "They aren't leaving Daphne's apartment for a while, I'd bet."

"Whoooo! Damn right-"

"Gross! Those are my moms-"

"My children are listening to this! Can you-"

The squabbling continued. Daphne put the phone on mute. "Daph? What are you-Mmph!"

Apparently, her insatiable girlfriend had gotten bored with the team's teasing. Rose was totally alright with that. Melting against Daphne, she trailed her hands under her shirt and up her sides.  _This is bloody wonderful. Let's just never leave the flat..._ Daphne dropped her hands to Rose's arse, and thinking wasn't a thing for another fifteen minutes or so.

"Rose? Dapnhe? Hello-"

"Bet you anything they're fucking-"

"Language!-"

"HEY! If you're not screwing right now, say something!"

From her place between Rose's thighs, Daphne grinned. "Thank you for the suggestion, girls, but we're decent on this end, I promise."  _No. No, they were not. At all._ Rose tried to silently regain Daphne's attention, to no avail. She had forgotten exactly how fond Daphne was of playing games with people.  _Crap._ She sat up, the smirk on Daphne's face her causing to wonder exactly how much sanity she'd have left by the time the paps left. She pressed the mute button again. 

"Daphne, please?"

Her possibly-girlfriend looked up at her innocently. "Yes?..."

 _For the love of-_ "Daphne. Please for the love of God just- _FUCK._ " Thank God the mute button was already on. This woman was going to be the death of her.

**One ended phone call later**

Eventually, it was decided that they couldn't stay in Daphne's apartment forever, and they were going to need to take a break from "making up for lost time" to eat actual food. Which meant putting on clothes and dealing with the press. Not surprisingly, getting dressed with Daphne around was really bloody difficult. The woman was impossible to say no to and seemed entirely against the idea of Rose ever wearing clothing ever again. Which could make doing their jobs very difficult. Eventually, Rose ended up locking herself in the bathroom to get dressed. Any alternatives were too likely to end in her getting distracted. Really distracted. After she was wearing  _something,_ Daphne became marginally more cooperative. Meaning that it took them two hours to be in a public-friendly state. Rose really hoped no one asked why she was wearing a scarf in June. 

They ended up sneaking out the back entrance of the apartment building with the help of Andre. Most of the press was out front, so once they were a few blocks away they were able to walk around like a couple of normal, unfamous not-criminals. Rose was positive people were covertly filming them, but she didn't care. She was walking down the street holding hands with Daphne Kluger. Who loved her. Who she was in love with. She hadn't felt her anxiety in a full day. Everything was perfect. 

They ended up at some tiny Italian restaurant. Hopefully, no one would tweet their location and they could have a camera-free lunch. Their waitress nearly fainted upon seeing them, so that was incredibly unlikely, but Rose was going to assume everything would turn out fine. Or Daphne would elbow-drop more photographers. Either or, really. 

The food was amazing, and Daphne actually ate it, so Rose was going to call the meal a success. She hadn't had any episodes of incoherent stammering, and while Daphne was visibly holding her hand over the table everyone seemed willing to ignore it.  _Thank God some people still understand how bloody privacy works._ Their date was going perfectly, really, until the entrees arrived. Nothing was wrong with them, but that was not their waitress. 

"Good afternoon, Sin-yore-een-ahs, my-a name is Con-..."

"-Not Constance!" 

"Not Constance! May I offer you dessert-ah?" Rose blinked. That was absolutely Constance. Her accent was...horrible. Why did she have a cart of their food?  _Where was their waitress? And who was under the damn cart?_

"Constance. And Amita, I'd guess. You are not fucking Italian. What the Hell are you doing here?"

Amita poked her head out from under the cart. "Making sure you two don't die alone? Wait, Rose, why are you wearing a scarf-"

Another voice under the cart ordered her to "Be quiet, homegirl!" Nine Ball was in attendance as well. Perfect. 

"Amita, you're still looking for potential hookups on fucking Tinder. You can't talk. And Constance, you're enabling her."

Nine Ball popped out from behind Amita.  _Good God, what kind of criminal Russian nesting doll is this? Is Lou in there too?_ "The movie star's got a point. You two gotta bone already."  _Well, that got awkward fast. Maybe if I faked a heart attack?_

"Right. Why are you here? As you see, Daphne and I are  _fine._ And not going to die alone." That last part was sort of guaranteed, seeing as they were sort-of engaged.

"You sure, Rosie?"  _Yes, she was bloody sure._ Daphne was sending the three delinquent date-crashers her most intimidating glare. It was scarily effective.  _I am never going to make her angry. Ever. Just agree with whatever she says till the day I die. That's a good idea..._ Constance turned to her co-conspirators, but they had disappeared under the cart. She cleared her throat, shifting nervously. "...Should I just go?"

"Yeah. And Nine Ball's right. You two need to fucking bone already." Constance looked tempted to reply but chose instead to flee. Daphne turned back to Rose. "Should we just get a check before Debbie shows up pretending to be our sommelier?"  _Please don't let Debbie show up. She was terrifying. Even more than Lou._

"Yes! Let's get a check. Now." Rose's voice was more of a heavily-accented squeak at this point.

"You all right, babe? You seem a little...tense."  _Yes, because my team is has gone round the bend!_ "I can fix that when we get home." 

Home? Was Daphne's apartment home now? Apparently, it was. Rose was very pleased with that idea. Possibly more pleased with that than what might happen once they got there.  _Was Daphne some kind of nymphomaniac? Was this going to be a permanent thing for them?_ Because Rose would be totally okay with that, but it might make their schedules for filming and fashion shows far more complicated. Plus, they would never be able to go anywhere with thin walls ever again. Across the table, the look on Daphne's face could only be described as predatory.  _No more thin walls it is, then._ She had just vowed to never disagree with Daphne ever, after all.

 


	22. In Which Public Relations Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne talks to her manager

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Tatea14, whose comments have become my primary motivation to write this thing.

**Day eight, after lunch**

Daphne was deliriously happy. She and Rose walked arm in arm down the street, ostensibly off to have a meeting with her PR manager at his demand but really just because it was nice out and they hadn't been outside in several days. Which was mostly her fault, really, but who the fuck cared about that? Beside her, Rose looked like she was contemplating ripping off the scarf she was wearing. It was hot as shit out, and Rose had never been the best with Dealing With Minor Inconveniences in the first place. Internally, Daphne was hoping she did take the damn thing off, if only to make it very clear that the woman was  _hers,_ damnit. 

The walk to her manager's office building was far too short. She trudged up the steps like she was headed to a funeral. Meetings with this moron always took  _forever,_ and she really wanted Rose to herself again. Maybe that was a little possessive, but some degree of crazy was usually okay in new relationships. The receptionist recognized Daphne immediately, looking torn between cowering in fear or leering.  _Creepy little shit._ She had made a game of making him fear for his job after one sleazy comment too many. A game which clearly needed to increase in intensity, since the weasel seemed to think that staring at Rose and she was a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

"Good afternoon, ladies. Mr. Johnson will be with you in just one moment. Ms. Kluger, who  _is_ your gorgeous companion here? She's _almost_ as lovely as you!" The man (whose name she had forgotten at this point) smiled in a way Daphne was sure he thought of as charming but was really a mix between constipated and serial killer. Rose gave her politest smile, her grip on Daphne's hand tightening to the point where she was pretty sure she'd bruise.  _Flirting with her was one thing. Flirting with Rose while also insulting Rose? He was going to die._

"Good morning...Ummm...Weaselby? Whatever. Please scurry back to whatever hole you climbed out of and tell Johnson he has three minutes. After that, I'm leaving."

The man puffed out his nonexistent chest and leaned forward. "Mr. Johnson is a very busy man. I'm sure if you came back later-"

"I didn't mean leaving and coming back later, I meant leaving this firm. And mentioning you specifically as the reason why." The weaselly creature looked vaguely worried but soon recovered. 

"I'm sure that he'll have you up soon, Daphne. Why don't you sit down? No need to rush-"

**FWAP!**

At some point over the course of the exchange, Daphne had dropped Rose's hand without her noticing and made her way over to the reception desk. Saying nothing, she took her purse and hit the man in the head as hard as she could.  _Fuck. Rose's gonna kill me._

Daphne didn't move, waiting for the man to remove his head from the desk. Daphne wasn't sure what her expression was exactly, but it must have been horrifying because the receptionist slammed a button on his desk and insisted that Daphne's manager was absolutely ready to see them immediately. 

"Daphne. Not that I'm not thrilled you did that, but what on earth were you thinking? What if he sues?"

Daphne put on her best innocent look, the one she had practiced in the mirror for hours. "Should I not have done that? It's just that he was staring at me and he was acting like Claude and..." She inhaled. "I wanted to smack him in the face so I did. I'm sorry if I upset you, babe." Rose looked torn between her usual smug "Claude is being insulted" expression and her "Panic!" expression.

"Unfortunately, we can't hit every creepy guy we meet with purses. Otherwise, you'll get arrested. And I am not going to jail, even for you! Probably, anyway. So you have to stop doing that. I don't think he'll be telling anyone about how a movie star beat him up for creeping on her, especially with your fans on the warpath, so this time it'll be fine?" Daphne beamed, clutching her bag in vindication.  _Since when did Rose have a violent streak? She did seem rather thrilled at the prospect of Claude getting beat up by her fans...Well, she wasn't sleeping on the couch for doing that, so who cares why?_

Mr. Johnson was with them the second they got off the elevator. He did not look pleased to see them. "Ms. Kluger. Are you by any chance aware you have been trending on eight social media platforms for the past week? Or that your fans have begun attacking fox news, anti-gay-rights movements, paparazzi in general, TMZ, Penelope Stern, Claude Becker, and the entire Republican party? Because I am!"

 _Yes, yes she was. Very much so._ "...No?" Mr. Johnson did not look convinced.

"Miss. Kluger. I don't believe you are aware of how serious a situation this is. Many representatives of these people or groups have called this office, demanding an end to the madness and asking for public apologies-"

"Nope."  _She was not apologizing for having awesome fans._ Johnson herded them into his office and closed the door, sinking down onto his swivel chair.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Daphne pretended to think for all of five seconds. "Good job everyone, fuck Donald Trump?"

Johnson turned red. "No! Wrong. You need to get this under control! The press thinks you are in some sort of lesbian cult, people are organizing boycotts of your films, not to mention the risk of being affiliated with the gay community..." Daphne suddenly remembered why she tended to have her assistant deal with this guy. 

"So...?"

"So? SO? So, this could be very, very bad for your public image! Your employers could be furious! This could-" Daphne yawned loudly. Beside her, Rose snorted trying to hold in her laughter. "You two think this is funny, don't you?" They nodded.  _It was fucking hilarious._ "You," he pointed at Daphne "And you," he pointed at Rose "are turning into the most complicated PR mess I've ever seen!" 

Daphne and Rose high-fived. It wasn't planned, and probably they shouldn't be celebrating this, but it would clearly annoy Johnson.

"Mr...Long-Johns, was it? I'm afraid as a designer I'm not sure of why, exactly, we should be worried? The fans think everything is great!" Johnson turned purple. Rose continued, seemingly oblivious to his distress. "Besides, a few boycotts are hardly important, not when the fans are buying everything in triplicate to show their support. Why, I've sold out of everything in my line and I'm not even her! Besides, isn't your job sort of dealing with all the people who get mad at celebrities for breathing? It is your job, right?" Rose's tone was surprisingly condescending for her. Johnson nodded, annoyed at the lack of capitulation to his suggestions. "Well then. It seems to me that if Daphne's employers are so bloody pissed when she's more profitable then ever, you should be on the phone with them trying to teach them basic ruddy math. Right?" Johnson did not respond in any way.

Daphne did, though. It was fucking impossible not to laugh at the horrible fake-innocent look Rose had plastered on her face. She was technically right, which made it funnier. Rose, after seeing that to Daphne at least she hadn't gone over the line, started snickering as well. She looked toward Daphne, then to the door. Daphne nodded, grabbing Rose's hand and making a run for it. "Lovely meeting you! Do try and deal with this in a timely manner!"  _Rose apparently turned into a cheeky little shit around the overinflated male ego. Interesting._

Weasel-man looked somewhat alarmed as they sprinted past him, Daphne's purse "accidentally" slamming into his computer. "Oops! Sorry!" she called out, insincerely as possible. Clearly, Daphne was gonna need a new PR manager. Oh well.

"I. Cannot. Believe. We. Did. That." Daphne couldn't either. She could definitely believe she would do something like that, but Rose? Who would have thought?

"We fucking did, though. And it was awesome. I love you so much right now." Rose grinned, sunlight bouncing off of her curls. 

"Love you, love you, love you. God, what an idiot. Can we go home? And let social media do whatever the ruddy hell it likes?"

"Yes, we abso-fucking-lutely can." She grabbed Rose's hand again and started the walk home. If half of everything she said on the way was highly inappropriate? It's not like anyone could hear them, and Protective Rose was fucking hot. If they ended up posting several photos together, making it very clear they were an item and anyone who didn't like it could fuck off? They had Toussaint money in spades, it's not like it would become a problem financially.

 

 

 


	23. In Which Rose Becomes the Fandom Mom by Process Of Elimination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Cheers, everyone who commented, it's been a shitty/just plain weird week and you've made my days a lot better. School for me starts tomorrow, and I will have dramatically less free time because I am in way too many clubs. So I love you, and I will update when I can, but it might take a while. Like even longer than this update. Sorry! I love you all though.

**Day ten, around seven pm**

It was decided after the Mr. Johnson fiasco that it might be wise to just get on with their lives and ignore the press. This meant, of course, Daphne and Rose going back to work. From what Rose could see, Daphne was handling it fine. She was used to being mobbed every time she so much as went to the supermarket. It wasn't entirely shocking she was handling this well. It also probably helped that she was always filming in undisclosed locations. But Rose's location was very disclosed. Her name was on the damn storefront. The paps weren't the problem. They couldn't enter private property, so she was safe in the flat and her studio. The problem was the fans. Not that the fans were problematic! They were lovely, most all of them. They were just...New. And loud. And had so many questions about her and Daph and Claude and sex and their opinions on everything and... Rose was not handling the more private questions very well, she knew. She knew because she was currently hiding in the back room of the studio and hoping no one found the entrance. She could hear them giggling with her assistant, who was really quite good at convincing fans to buy even more things than they planned on buying. Sheila deserved a raise. 

The giggling got closer. "Mrs. Klug-Excuse me, Ms. Weil?" the giggling intensified. What was happening? "You have some people here who'd like a meeting with you. That all right?" No. That was not all right, Shiela. The door was opening anyway. 

"There she is!-"

"Rose! Are you and Daphne gonna get married-"

"Can I have your autogra-"

"YOU AND DAPHNE NEED TO HAVE BABIES-"

"-You are my OTP!"

"-SqueeeeeeeeeeeOMIGOD!"

Sheila had betrayed her. They were everywhere and they were yelling and why were they asking about babies? Had she and Daphne discussed babies? Should they?  _Oh, bullocks._ Sheila had betrayed her and for that, she could deal with this ruddy mess. "Yes. Hello. You do have a lot of questions, don't you?" Once she started talking, the fans in front of her magically went silent. They grinned up at her hopefully, and they suddenly didn't seem quite as alarming. "Daphne and I could potentially get married. She said yes. I think."

A girl stared up at her quizzically. "You think?" She was holding a picture of the two of them and a pen. Dazedly, Rose signed the photo.

"I think. There was a bet involved." She nodded as though this made perfect sense. The group of young adults didn't quite seem to agree. The signed photo was replaced with a hat, which was replaced with a film of Daphne's. Rose robotically signed them, smiling at the grins on the fans' faces.  _Well then. This wasn't so bad when weren't talking all at once._

A girl in a jean jacket and flannel stepped forward. "Two questions. One, could I please get a photo cause you're kinda a gay icon and I would die for you. Two, could you please explain the terms of the bet?" The other fans nodded eagerly. Rose nodded. The next several minutes involved quite a bit of hugging and smiling, which took some getting used to but wasn't entirely alarming after a bit. "The bet, Ms. Weil? Are you really getting married? Because I love you guys together."

"Right. I'm...very glad you do. It was a bet about a photo. The one on Fox. And whether or not we'd get accused of destroying human decency." The group squealed in unison.

"That photo was adorable!" A very tall woman looked down at her bashfully. "Sorry. My name's Skye. Uh, I really like your clothes. And the stuff you said to Claude? That was...Awesome. Who won the bet?" She grinned conspiratorily. Rose sat down on the floor, guessing this would be a rather long conversation and not entirely minding. The others joined her. They made quite the motley crew, surrounded by riots of fabric and surrounded by Alex's live streaming equipment. 

"Right. Um, I won the bet. Because they didn't actually use the words human decency. But they were very rude!" There was some snickering from the peanut gallery, which had somehow grown exponentially since the equipment was set up. There was a mountain of things to be signed in front of her. "The bet was that the winner got anything they wanted, and, well..."

"So you asked her to marry you?-"

"Damn, Rosie's got guts!-"

"-You're my idol. Holy shit I'm dying."

Rose started. "Are you all right, dear? Should I call the hospital?"

Sheila snorted. "Ms. Weil? That's an expression. They're fine, I promise."

Rose flushed. "Right. My apologies. And to answer your questions, I didn't ask so much as...It slipped out by accident, alright?'

"Accidently proposed to Daphne Kluger. That is a motherfucking mood right there."

Rose thought that was probably good. "Yes. Well, she can be distracting."

"Damn right! Where do I get a woman like that?"

Rose surveyed the grinning woman who had asked. "Probably a Hollywood casting call? Or a fashion show, I suppose? She just sort of...Appeared."

"Yeah, cause you were gonna make something for Penelope Stern. Ew!"

 _Ew was right._ "Yes, well, Ms. Stern ended up wearing someone else, so that's alright."

"...You don't like her, do you?" 

Rose eyed the streaming equipment warily. "She...Is very rude to the woman I am with. Which I find unacceptable." Rose wasn't entirely sure what you were supposed to say when fans invaded your studio with the help of your assistant.  _Daphne, a spontaneous appearance if possible?_ Daphne did not spontaneously appear. As if sensing her discomfort at the line of questioning, Sheila announced Rose had a meeting with a prospective client. Hugging the fans goodbye and allowing Sheila to usher them out the door, Rose sat down heavily.  _That was exhausting. Fun, but exhausting._ She could see why Daphne sometimes fell asleep on the couch after coming home from work. Which she ought to be doing. Because Daphne had been filming for three days and Rose missed her. And because she was late. Daphne tended to get a bit...Mischievous if she was late. And by mischievous Rose meant she turned into a complete bloody tease. 

Sheila called Rose a cab, apologizing sheepishly. Rose waved her off, advising her to maybe give her some warning the next time she wanted to host a fancon in her studio. She offered the driver an extra fifty dollars to get her home in under ten minutes, thinking that was utterly impossible in New York. She was mistaken. Very mistaken. 

Slightly green but only five minutes late, she gave the man his dubiously earned cash and staggered toward the door. Upon entering, she was struck by the sight of Daphne asleep in a chair seemingly in the process of removing her shoes. Rose contemplated waking her, but directors did have long days, and she looked rather peaceful, didn't she? Rose took off her other shoe and stuck a pillow behind her head, hoping she'd recover from her shooting schedule soon. She eased herself onto the couch, picking up a sketchbook. She couldn't really help it. Daphne was her muse, she truly was, and when she wasn't able to move because she was asleep the job was much easier. Rose smiled. She was engaged to a whirling dervish of a woman, a perpetual motion machine that moved too quickly to finish a sketch before inspiring half a dozen more. Rose wouldn't trade it for the world, but when designing your entire fashion line around the perfection of a single woman it got rather complicated when that woman gave you so many ideas you couldn't focus. Or just decided she had a different use for your hands than sketching. Although Rose really didn't mind that one. She was through the ninth potential dress before Daphne stirred. She looked around the room, appearing somewhat confused about her surroundings. 

"Welcome to the land of the conscious, love-"

"Holy  _shit!_ Rose, you scared the fucking crap out of me!" Rose blanched. That had not been her intention in the slightest.

"Sorry, Daph! I didn't realize you'd be so startled by my presence." Daphne rolled her eyes and stretched, curiously trying to peek at the sketchbook. Rose closed it and tossed it on the coffee table. "How was filming?"

Daphne outed. "I swear I'm surrounded by idiots. Any paparazzi I need to beat up?"

It really was sweet Daphne checked in on how she was coping with her new fame, but that was...unnecessarily violent. "No love. Although I think I may have accidentally done...A thing?"

Daphne looked confused as Rose felt. "A thing? What kind of thing?"

"A fan thing. They were in the studio. They had questions."  _So many questions._

Daphne snorted. "They tend to. Everything okay?"

 _Surprisingly, yes._ "Everything was lovely, dear. Although I think we're trending. Again."

Daphne rose from the easy chair to drape her body across Rose's lap, and her mind went blank. "I think we're gonna have to get used to that."

 _What had they been talking about?_ "You're absolutely right, dear."  _Whatever it was you were saying._

Daphne nodded at her indulgently. "I'm glad you agree. They'll arrive next Tuesday."  _Tuesday? What would arrive on Tuesday?_

Rose blinked, trying to think of what exactly she might have just agreed to. Her thought process was caught off by Daphne launching herself into her arms and pulling her into a messy kiss. "I'm so glad you agree, baby."  _Agree with what?_ Daphne's hands hovered teasingly over the neckline of her shirt, inches away from being indecent. She winked. "About the children, of course!"  _The what now?_ Whatever it was, if it made Daphne happy she'd do it, but she'd like to know what she should be doing to prepare. 

"The children. Yes. What exactly, should we do to-" Daphne began laughing hysterically.

"Got you. You really are easily distracted, aren't you babe?" Rose nodded. She really was. Especially where Daphne and her hormones were concerned. 

"It's cute. There are no children coming on Tuesday, I promise."  _Oh, thank God._ If there were to be children, more than a week's notice would be required. Even for Daphne. Maybe. Except then Daphne was kissing her again, and her shirt had gone missing, and Rose's shirt was in the process of coming off, and there could be a hundred children coming on Tuesday as long as they left in time for them to go to bed together.

 


	24. In Which Daphne Has The Best Fiance (Rose Would Disagree)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get smutty. Fair warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. This became smut. Squicked out by that? May wanna skip this chapter. Sorry!

Day **10, afternoon**

Daphne flounced into Rose's studio as if she owned the place. Sheila smiled and waved her into the back room, where Rose sat on her ottoman surrounded by what looked like a fabric-y explosion. Several pins were sticking out of her mouth, and she was scowling at her mannequin without noticing Daphne's entrance. 

She locked the door and walked closer, rounding the stool Rose was perched on. "Miss me, baby?" Rose gasped and froze, gingerly removing the pins from her mouth.

"...Is it four already, love?" It was four thirty, but Daphne wasn't telling Rose that if she didn't already know. Their meetings always ran late anyway. She ran her hands over Rose's shoulders, massaging gently. She relaxed instantly, leaning back against Daphne's torso. "I must have lost track of time."  _Clearly._ "You're going to look absolutely breathtaking tonight. Even more than you already do."  _Tonight._ It was a movie premiere that unfortunately, everyone with any form of social relevance was going to. She'd much rather go somewhere that wasn't in honor of Penelope Stern, but she supposed there wasn't really any other choice. And with Rose's help, no one would remember Penelope was even in the room next to her.

"Thanks, Rosie. God, can I just skip this shit?" She really couldn't, not without TMZ being a pain in the ass, and they both knew it.

"Whatever you want, dear. Just say the word." Daphne knew there was very little Rose wouldn't do if she asked. The woman was so very eager to please and help, never wanting anything in return. She was too good for this world, and especially too good for the incredibly creepy people in it who frequented these types of events. 

"Hmm...Maybe if you stay by me the whole time, I'll remember why I can't slap that little blonde shit and get arrested."  _And be able to scare the shit out of anyone who so much as glances at you for more than the appropriate amount of time._ Rose smiled agreeably, nodding.

"Of course, love. Although I think you may have more fun at this than you reckon. Did I mention Penelope is very rude to her stylists?" No, she did not. Daphne wasn't quite sure why that was important. Rose grinned at her. "I'm friends with her hairdresser. Did you know she dyes it?" No, Daphne did not. She had forgotten how much she loved Evil Genius Rose. "She'll probably be wearing a headscarf tonight. Very unflattering. Maybe some well-meaning person will remove it in front of the cameras..." Holy shit. Did Rose do what Daphne thinks she did? Daphne moved from behind Rose to drop into her lap, nipping at her bottom lip. 

"Have I mentioned it's hot when you fuck with people like that?" Like, really fucking hot. 

"Once or twice. At great length." She smiled up at Daphne, horrible innocent look in place.  _This woman needed to learn to act._

"I love you. Not just because you ruined Penelope's hair." Although it was still awesome.

"I love you, darling. It's quite impossible not to if your name is anything other than Penelope Stern." Rose pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, threading her fingers through Daphne's hair. "Always loved this. Really is a shame about hers, isn't it?"

Tragic. Just fucking tragic. She deliberately leaned forward, hands coming to rest on Rose's collar bones. She nipped at the skin of her neck, gratified to hear Rose purring softly. She pulled them backward, Rose tumbling on top of her. She grinned and winked, flipping them over and shoving a thigh between Rose's legs. They had a few hours, after all. She made short work of Rose's skirt, but the shirt she was wearing was covered with small buttons. Apologizing insincerely, she tugged at the seams, shirt coming apart with a gratifying rip. Rose rolled her eyes. "You'll be replacing that, dear."

Daphne nodded eagerly. "Yes, fine, I'll buy you all the goddamn clothes you want. Just take yours off already." Rose, for once, didn't snap to obey. Her hands went to Daphne's back, searching for the zipper on her dress and yanking it down. Shimmying out of the dress, Daphne grabbed Rose's wrists and held them above her head. "Keep these here, baby." Rose nodded, eyes darkening. Daphne traced over Rose's hips and up to her ribs, unclasping her bra. She sucked gently on Rose's pulse point, fingers teasing her breasts. Rose whimpered softly, head thrown back, staring down at her. Daphne looked up at her, giving a smug grin before biting her neck. It was going to leave a bruise, but that's what concealer was for. If anyone else got close enough to see it, that was their fucking problem.

Rose wrapped her legs around Daphne's hips, squeezing tightly. She bit down harder in response. Rose glanced down at her sheepishly, loosening her hold. "Sorry, love." Daphne hummed against the skin of her throat, moving down. Purpling hickeys bloomed in her wake, Rose squirming below her. She paused as she reached Rose's breasts before sucking hard. "Fuck! Daphne, please just-" 

"Be patient, babe." Rose stilled, body going tense. Neither of them were the patient kind. She trailed her fingers down Rose's stomach, teasingly flitting over her clit before removing the hand. Rose let out a strangled gasp, bucking her hips against air.  _She was so fucking gorgeous like this._ And she had just done something rather awesome, so maybe Daphne should stop with the teasing. Moving down Rose's body, she slipped three fingers inside of her, placing her other hand over Rose's mouth, muffling her shriek. Daphne placed a gentle kiss on the inside of Rose's thigh before slowly licking over her clit. She sucked hard, moving her fingers quickly. Rose was babbling incoherently, hands still obediently clasped above her head. Daphne moved faster. They weren't exactly in a hurry, true, but she didn't exactly want Sheila investigating what the noise was about. Rose was flushed and panting, wetness dripping down her thighs. She tightened around Daphne's fingers, coming apart with a final moan. As soon as she came down from her orgasm, she grabbed Daphne's arms and pulled, kissing her roughly. Her face was flushed and from her neck, you'd think she'd been in a fight. She was so goddamn gorgeous. Pressing a final kiss to her cheek, she rose. "C'mon, babe. You've still gotta dress me for this stupid party. And bribe someone to accidentally pull Penelope's scarf off."

Rose shakily got to her feet, looking at her as if she'd gone nuts. "...Already taken care of, dear. Glad to see your priorities are in order." She was laughing as she said it, tossing on her semi-ruined clothes with a pointed look in Daphne's direction. "She also has a highly inappropriate tattoo she usually covers. Her dress may or may not conveniently tear on stage." Jesus Christ she had the best fiance. 


	25. In Which A Premier Is Attended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I may have bitten off a bit more than I can chew this school year. Updates may take a back seat to all the stuff I was convinced to do for college reasons. I'm not dead, I just want to sleep for eight years. And find some rich lady to take me far away from college tours and standardized tests to be her bloody trophy wife or something.

**Day Ten, Evening.**

Rose hadn't been to many cinema premiers, but she was hardly impressed by this one. True, anyone who was anyone was there, but the decorations were gaudy, the food was too deliberately complicated to taste good, and the entire event had the air of trying way too hard. Daphne was in her element, beaming at cameras and making small talk with everyone that came her way. She looked like there was nowhere else she'd rather be. Given that she knew what was going to happen soon, Rose would bet there wasn't. The cocktail portion of the evening dragged on for ages, the drinks at the open bar getting stronger and stronger after the producer of the film had a word with the bartender.  _Dear Lord. The film can't be **that** bad, can it? _It was probably a good thing they weren't there to watch the movie. 

Rose followed in Daphne's wake, placidly holding her hand and posing for photographs on autopilot until she caught the eye of one of the servers. Or at least, who was dressed up like a server. At second glance, her suit was far nicer than the rest of the staff's, and the fire that blazed in her eyes didn't match the glassy stare of her compatriots. Rose nudged Daphne's arm. It was time to make sure all the photographers were trained on Penelope. Daphne swanned over, preparing to play the game of "I am  _so_ glad to see you! We don't hate each other at all!" Penelope ignored her for several minutes while Daphne tried to hide her vengeful glare. Finally, Penelope greeted her with a wide, cold smile and kissed her on both cheeks, waving to the photographers. Rose shook her hand and avoided making eye contact. 

The photographers frenzied around them. The subject of the premier and one of the most famous women in the world were talking. They might get into a catfight at any moment. It could be tabloid gold. Zubaida approached slowly, giving Rose a wink. As she entered the fray of cameras and sounds equipment, she made a great show of tripping over a cable. Stumbling over the foot of a TMZ reporter and "accidentally" knocking over his camera, she careened into Penelope and grabbed onto her headscarf. The woman dramatically collapsed to the floor, scarf still in her hand. It slipped off of Penelope's head in slow motion, the smug grin fading from her face to be replaced by a panicked grimace.  _Oh. She looks even worse than I expected._

Penelope's hair was a riot of black and orange. To the untrained eye, it looked as though she had tried to go brunette and add highlights, somehow mixing the colors improperly. Really, if it had gone properly her hair would have looked like Daphe's. Rose would guess that half these media outlets had someone on staff who knew that. From the smirk Daphne schooled from her face, Rose would guess she knew that too. Hair could be redyed, but being accused of attempting to imitate your biggest rival on camera? That tended to stick. 

Zubaida rose to her feet, expertly rewrapping Penelope's hair after enough photos had been taken. Rose shot her a thumbs up as she headed for the back door. Andre clearly had excellent taste in women. 

The Hair Hubbub died down approximately an hour later, as they were ushered to their seats in the theatre area. Daphne seemed to be getting antsy, no doubt not thrilled to be potentially trapped watching a Penelope Stern movie. Rose leaned her head against her shoulder. "Her tattoo is on her shoulder." 

Daphne scoffed. "Then how bad could it possibly be?" She leaned forward, trying to get a look at Penelope's back. It wasn't hard to do. Her dress was missing more fabric than it had. If anyone so much as touched the gauzy ribbons holding it together (and God, was that tacky) the whole back might collapse. Rose smiled serenely.  _Really bloody bad. Who puts the words "Kinky Bitch" on their body? And then spells it wrong?_ Truth be told, she felt a bit bad for the woman, but she made Daphne cry and Rose had never forgotten. And if convincing a few friends to infiltrate an A-list film premiere was slightly frowned on? At least they wouldn't get arrested. 

The lights went down, and Penelope ascended the stage in her tulle monstrosity. She leaned into the mic and began to talk. No one could hear her. 

Giggles could be heard from the seats. Penelope shook the mic and began to talk again. Still nothing. She stamped a foot. A harried-looking member of the stage crew ran forward with a new mic. Penelope reached forward to snatch the mic out of his hands, not noticing the flowing sleeve of her dress had "accidentally" caught on his shoulder walkie-talkie holster. Grinning wryly, she spun around and made her merry way back to the mic stand. 

The fabric tore without a sound. Penelope kept walking, not noticing her wardrobe malfunction. Suddenly, something pulled her back. She spun to see who had grabbed her, turning her back to the audience. She then noticed her dress had become affixed to the retreating "staff member." (Clearly, being wonderful in a crisis ran in Sheila's family) Yanking it back to her, she was too preoccupied to notice the muffled sniggers and flashing (smuggled in) cameras in the audience. Flouncing back to centerstage, she made her tearful speech about how much making this film meant to her.  _Bleeding Hell. It's about car chases, sex, winning over brooding men, and explosions. How meaningful could it be?_ Several critics sitting to her right seemed to share that opinion. The lights went down, Penelope sat in the front row with her tissues, and three hours of loud sounds and uncomfortable sex scenes began.

**Twenty Minutes Later**

Rose was bored. Really bored. And very uncomfortable. Beside her, Daphne was looking at the ceiling rather than the screen. Rose didn't blame her. There was only so much Deep Male Monologing a girl could take. She could take a lot more of Daphne, though. She really did look wonderful, once they managed to get clothes on. Rose threaded a hand through her loose hair, almost giddy when Daphne dropped her head onto her shoulder. "Not enjoying the movie, Rosie?"  _No. No, she wasn't._

"Almost as much as I enjoyed the 2016 election. Reckon we could leave if the fire alarm went off?" Daphne snorted and shook her head.  _Suppose I can't do much about that now._ She could, however, entertain herself until this dreadful film was over. She -pressed a light kiss to Daphne's temple, sighing contentedly as she tossed an arm over her shoulders. Daphne looked up at her, eyebrows raised. Rose grinned, tapping her mouth. "I might be a wee bit more engaging than the ceiling. Lord knows you are." Daphne rolled her eyes but acquiesced, kissing her softly as yet another building combusted. Her tongue slipped into Rose's mouth, hands trailing slowly up her thighs.  _Right then. Why did so much as touching this woman in public seemed like a good idea?_ Because she had no bleeding willpower around Daphne Kluger, that's why. To Hell with it. Normal people snogged in the cinema all the time. If they ended up in the paper, so be it. 

They ended up in the paper. On the plus side, they were only on page two. Page one was dedicated entirely to Penelope Stern. 


	26. In Which Rose Is Apparently The Jealous Type, And Lawsuits Are Ignored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK PEOPLE! I love writing this, but thinking up new chapter ideas is hard. So if there's something y'all wanna see, TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS! Love sick fics or drunken karaoke or pushy exes or anesthesia issues? TELL ME AND I'LL WRITE IT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also sex warning. Not sure if that upsets anyone, just figured I'd point it out.

**Day 11, not-so-early morning**

Daphne awoke to the smell of carbohydrates and the sound of cabinets smacking closed. Had Rose cooked? She really hoped so. Groggily walking toward the kitchen without bothering to put clothes on, she was treated to the sight of eight gossip magazines and five papers, all turned to articles on Penelope Stern or her new film. In the headlines, she counted the word "disgrace" used four times. It was a good morning. At the stove, Rose was making crepes, flour dotting her face. Apparently, it was a very good morning.

Daphne took her usual place at the table, picking up the first lurid gossip rag at hand. "Planning on surprising me, babe?"

Rose appeared slightly startled but maintained her composure. Which was good, because Daphne would have been rather upset if she dropped the food. Not that she should be eating it. "Good Morning, Daph! I'm sorry I didn't wake you, but you looked so peaceful and you're so beautiful when you're asleep." Rose seemed slightly distracted by the time she made it to the end of her sentence. Daphne supposed it might be because of her lack of clothing.

"It is a good morning. Mostly because of you." And also the detailed analysis of how Penelope's hair was most likely ruined trying to copy hers. The woman must be seething.

Rose put the crepes onto plates and sat down across from her. "That's sweet, Daph. Do you think I might have gone a wee bit far, though? That tattoo was truly dreadful." Daphne stared at her incredulously. "Right then. Definitely not too far, then." Definitely fucking not. Last night was awesome even if that movie sucked. Idly looking through the magazine articles, she trailed a foot up Rose's leg. They didn't have anywhere they absolutely had to be, and Daphne wasn't nearly through convincing Rose she should be an evil genius whenever possible. Based upon the vaguely amused and not-at-all-surprised look Rose was giving her, the message wasn't that subtle. "Daphne, dear, eat your food. The team sends their congratulations, by the way. Also, we're somehow trending? Again? Because twitter thinks that Penelope is in love with you because of her hair. I didn't mean for that to happen I swear." That was new information. Very amusing new information.

Rose was shifting nervously in her seat, and Daphne swore that wasn't her normal "Did I Fuck Up?" expression.  _This is fucking publicity gold, so why the fuck does she look like I'm about to break up with her? Ohhhh._ "Rose. Babe. You don't think I'd actually go for that, right?" Why would she think that? Had the woman never looked in a mirror or heard herself speak? Good fucking Lord. 

Rose smiled sheepishly. "It was a thought. She is...Rather obsessively fixated on you, dear." She was. It was really damn creepy. But her girlfriend thinking she was going anywhere was Not Fucking Acceptable. Abandoning the plate of food, she sauntered over to Rose's chair and grabbed her jaw.

"Look at me. Does it look like I'm planning on running away with Penelope fucking Stern?" Rose shook her head. "Good."

Rose stared up at her in equal parts awe and arousal. "Does this mean I should call off the fans? Because they really aren't keen on the idea of you two." Daphne answered this very easy-to-answer question by lunging forward and kissing Rose as hard as she could. No, no she should not call off the goddamn fans. She should come back to bed with her naked fiancé. Duh. 

Rose seemed to agree with this silent analysis, standing from her chair and grabbing a handful of Daphne's hair. "I love you so bloody much. Even if your fans and coworkers and everyone else has gone completely bloody mad." Daphne threw her head back, snickering at the rather accurate description of her social circle. Rose saw it as an opportunity to attack her neck.  _Shit. How much concealer was in the apartment again?_ She'd deal with it later. Right now, Rose's mouth was on her neck and that red lipstick she was so big on was probably smearing fucking everywhere and it was an awesome damn morning. 

**Approximatly one hour and one very obnoxious cell phone later**

"I swear to God if someone isn't fucking dying..." Rose grinned, picking up the phone from its place on the nightstand and passing it over to where Daphne was leaning against the headboard. 

"Answer it, dear. Could be very important, after all." Yes, it could be. And Daphne didn't fucking care, because they had been in the middle of something and Rose was fucking smirking at her and if she didn't get back between her legs and finish what she started than Daphne was going to commit a damn murder.

A droning voice on the other line gloomily informed her that Penelope Stern was considering suing her for "Emotional distress and an attack on her reputation." Which was hilarious because the perpetrator was not her, but certainly was nearby. She had moved between Daphne's thighs, nipping her way down her sternum in a way that was totally going to leave a shit ton of marks.  _Fuck._ She put the phone on mute while the lawyer was informing her of how much money Penelope wanted. "Rose, I swear to fucking God. I'm on the fucking phone!" Which, Daphne realized, was probably why Rose had encouraged her to answer it. And she had been encouraging the evil genius thing, so this (completely wanted) situation was entirely her fault. Mr. Boring Lawyer informed her that "Ms. Stern" was not willing to settle out of court as Rose finally arrived back where Daphne had wanted her and started sucking on her clit.  _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._ She wasn't sure what exactly the lawyer was saying, just that Rose was being a complete tease and it wasn't fucking  _fair._

"Great. My legal team will contact yoOUU I have to goOO FUCK." She hung up. Rose was grinning up at her.  _You are going to fucking pay for that._ "So. Penelope is suing me," The shit-eating grin fell off of Rose's face. "It is, technically, your fault." Rose looked like she was torn between arguing and apologizing. Daphne tossed a leg over her shoulder, collapsed dramatically onto the bed, and grinned. "You're just going to have to make it up to me, I suppose." And, the grin was back in full force. Amazing how that happened. Even more amazing was Rose's tongue when she put her mind to it.  _Totally worth the fucking legal fees._ _Ow!_ With the number of bite marks Rose was apparently planning on leaving, it would be impossible to go anywhere for ages without everyone seeing them.  _Oh. Well, that explains it._ She wasn't aware Rose was the jealous type. Evidently she was, and evidently, it was kind of hot. And frustrating. "Rose Weil, for the love of fuck! If you _shit_ keep teasing me you can _ah!_ sleep on the couch for a week _SHIT_." Rose seemed unperturbed by her threats. They both knew she'd never actually follow through on it. However, Rose began working in earnest, sliding her fingers inside and  _fuck how is she so good at this?_

She didn't last very long after that.

And if she was covered in marks from head to toe, the smug look Rose got whenever she saw them made it worth having to wear long sleeves in June. 

 

 


	27. In Which Cults Are Disbanded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Debbie is less than thrilled with the Rophne Fandom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To miss moonshine for giving me the prompt for this. Also I'm_always_down_to_hide_with_you for generally being awesome. You should check out their work, we have a weird cycle of complimenting each other's stuff going on.

**Day Eleven, evening**

Rose was anxious. Which was shocking, considering the sheer amount of endorphins and sex hormones currently in her system, but the phrase "emergency team dinner" could do that to a person. Approaching the restaurant (and how did Debbie get a reservation here? Rose counted twelve senators in the dining room alone!) Rose thought it might be worth it to fake her own death and run away to Australia. Actually, Lou might find her there. Switzerland was nice this time of year... Daphne pushed her lightly on the shoulder, forcing her to approach the massive booth the rest of the team was sitting in like a functional human being. Thank God for Daphne! Daphne was wonderful! Rose would endure all the emergency dinners in the world if Daphne told her to.  _She really hoped Daphne wouldn't tell her to._

Squished between Lou and Tammy at one end of the booth, Debbie did not look happy to see them. Seeing this, Daphne and Rose wisely decided to sit next to Nine Ball, leaving both her in addition to Amita and Constance as a buffer between the cranky "Adults" of the team. 

Debbie raised an eyebrow in a way that almost accused them of being cowards. "Hello, everyone. I'm so glad you could make it." She looked pointedly towards Rose and Daphne, who were only slightly late, really, it's just they got distracted getting dressed, and...And someone had asked a question and she had zoned out. Bullocks. Debbie rolled her eyes almost fondly. "...I said, do you idiots have any idea how much publicity you've brought this team?" Oh.  _That was not good..._ "TMZ has accused you of joining a lesbian cult." 

Beside her, Daphne choked on her wine. "Shit, when you called us here I thought we were busted and had to move to somewhere without an extradition treaty or something." Debbie and Lou were not thrilled with this assessment. Daphne continued in spite of them. "Guys. They already convicted Claude pretty much! If the press asks how we know each other, 'lesbian cult' is an answer I'm always down with." Dead silence at this proclamation, followed by deranged laughter.

"Daphne. I am married. To a man. That cover story isn't going to work." That was very true. Tammy was very married. Lou's glare was once again pointed in their direction.  _Not good. This is not bloody good..._

Daphne grinned. "Well, I've dated men, Debbie's dated men, Rose accidentally married a man...Okay, gay cult. You're our team mom, you're allowed to have settled down with someone." Lou snickered into her drink. Tammy smacked her in the shoulder with her wallet, accidentally catching Debbie in the crossfire. The team "adults" descended into a bickering heap of limbs.  _Well then._ The man at the front desk was glaring at them.

A consensus in the criminal dogpile was eventually reached. "Daphne. No. Just...No. Not even the tabloids will buy that." Rose wasn't sure of that. They thought, after all, that she and Penelope were having an affair while Penelope was really in love with Daphne who was still secretly dating Claude and also was pregnant with his baby.  _Eww._

From her spot between Nine Ball and Amita, Constance held up her cell phone. "Guys. Let's just pretend we all met because our boy Claude cheated on our friend but then found out that the other girl and her friends wanted to mess him up too and now we're a squad." That sounded a little to close to the truth. Way too close. 

The mood at the table took a turn to the dramatic and drunk. Specifically, extremely drunk. Apparently, everyone had gotten started drinking way before Daphne and Rose showed up, and showed no intention of slowing when they found no solution to the problem of the press. Rose looked at Daphne, who had already poured herself what looked to be half a bottle of wine.  _Well then. I suppose if you can't beat them you ought to join them?_

**Approximatley twenty minutes, three wine bottles, one bottle of vodka, half a bottle of tequila, and one eviction notice from the restaurant later**

Staggering slightly, everyone stumbled into the first bar they saw and collapsed onto the nearest barstools. The bartender raised an eyebrow at the state of them but quickly brought more tequila when Daphne tried to pay him one thousand dollars for a bottle. Her wallet was quickly confiscated for her own good. 

After a few shots, Rose's head felt a bit fuzzy. She remembered posting some video of them all with the caption "fuck TMZ." She remembered siccing her (Daphne's?) fans on some random but very rude group called meninists, whatever those were. She remembered Constance drunkenly serenading Amita with a horrendous rendition of "Brown-eyed Girl." She remembered them kissing on the bar. Hopefully, they'd find a cab without dropping into unconsciousness soon.  _Probably should have stopped them. Whoops._  Lou and Debbie careened around the dance floor in what appeared to be an attempted tango, never mind the fact that the words "tango" and "drunken Rihanna karaoke by Nine Ball" (And damn, she could sing)rarely went together. If they weren't paying so well they'd surely be kicked out by now. As it was, Daphne was at her side ignoring some muscle-bound college guy- _wait a minute._ College boy was far too close to Daphne for her liking. Far, far too close. Rose did what any jealous disaster gay would do in that situation. She calmly picked up the empty bottle of tequila and brained him with it. 

Needless to say, they were in the paper again. The associated bottom-feeder tabloids sort of assumed people who got that fucked up together met way back in the day before social media was a thing, and no one decided to correct them. The others were too busy harping on the fact that they were off “destroying human decency” again. Bugger.

 


	28. In Which Shopping Is Fucking Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a forklift gone rogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Moonshine Madame for your prompt :)

**Day Twelve, Afternoon**

Daphne woke with a raging hangover and thousands of social media notifications.  _Fuck._ Honestly, though, she had no problem with a bunch of whiny men's rights activists being attacked by her fans. Like, none. She did, however, see that said whiny men's rights activists were all up in Rose's feed.  _Damnit._ If Rose had an anxiety attack because Daphne accidentally convinced her to get wasted...What were you supposed to do when you accidentally got someone drunk and embroiled in a very rude twitter war? Flowers, right? But flowers weren't very original and frankly she could do better than that. Possibly. Dragging herself out of bed, she wrote Rose a quick note and called Tammy. If anyone knew shopping, it was Tammy!

**Thirty minutes later**

Apparently, Tammy did not know shopping. She knew fencing, which was apparently completely different. In her words "If you know what you want, I can get it for you really cheaply. But I have no idea what to actually get. My husband always just buys flowers?..." So they called in reinforcements because apparently, Daphne hadn't learned her lesson about asking Debbie and Lou for relationship advice the last time she asked Debbie and Lou for relationship advice. Which brought them to the current situation.

"Alcohol is not an apology gift, Lou." Tammy perched herself on the box of a juicer, crossing her legs and sighing in exasperation. 

Lou browsed through a shelf of boxes and rolled her eyes. "Tammy. It's Daphne. We should be happy she didn't just go with a sexpology."

From her place on top of the warehouse's forklift, Debbie snorted. "Not a bad idea. Thought of just buying some new outfit and going for it?" She had thought of that, but ultimately decided it was a bit incomplete without something slightly more meaningful.

Tammy squeaked, absolutely scandalized. "Debbie! That is not an apology!-"

"-It's why you're apologizing!" Lou ducked, narrowly avoiding the high heeled shoe Tammy hurled at her. Picking it up and waving it over her head, she joined Debbie in the perceived safety of the forklift. 

Unfortunately, neither Debbie nor Lou knew the controls for said forklift, and were unable to prevent it from bulldozing a row of coffee machines. Shoeless, Tammy marched over to reclaim her vehicle before more damage could be done. Eager to escape from a grumpy Tammy, Debbie and Lou shot out of the vehicle, knocking into several levers along the way. An ominous beeping began.

The forklift shot forward, spinning in erratic circles. A row of Prada bags fell in the wake of the seemingly possessed construction equipment. "Debbie Ocean and Lou Hopefully Soon To Be Ocean, you are both in so much trouble." That was the mom voice. It was clearly time to go. While the three "Adults" sprinted around the warehouse trying desperately to corral the still moving forklift, Daphne made her way to Constance's apartment.

**Ten minutes and one embarrassed explanation later**

Constance had been laughing for the last five minutes.  _What the fuck was so funny about Lou being attacked by Tammy's possessed forklift?_ Actually, when you said it like that it was really fucking funny. She was going to need more apology gifts. 

In addition to being way too fucking amused by the situation, Constance was possibly the worst gift shopper Daphne had ever seen. Buying Rose a puppy was a horrible idea! Right? No pets without consulting your fiancé? That sounded right, anyway. She might have to warn Amita to make her pet policy very clear before her first fight with Constance. Hold it. Amita was all romantic and shit! She'd ask Amita, who'd know what to do, and everything would be perfect. 

Amita was clearly not in a condition to go shopping or do anything other than lay in bed looking miserable and take painkillers.  _Well, fuck._ Wishing her luck with her hangover, Daphne was about ready to go home in defeat. Hopefully Rose wouldn't be too mad about the whole meninists and booze thing.

**One trip home later**

She could tell something was off the second she entered the house. Rose was nowhere to be found, there was some amazing-smelling thing on the stove, and there were flowers everywhere.

"Daphne! You're home! I got your note and I'm so sorry about the bloody twitter war. I asked Tammy what I should do but she seemed a bit occupied, something about a demonic possession and a forklift? She yelled something about flowers and then there was a lot of cursing...So I got flowers? And cooked, I suppose, because I didn't know if you'd eaten and- _Mmm?_ "

While Rose getting all flustered was all kinds of adorable, she needed to stop talking. And preferably lose the robe she was wearing, which Daphne was pretty sure belonged to her anyway. Tugging at the drawstring of the robe, she noticed Rose turning a very strange shade of red. "Babe? You okay- _shit._ "

Rose smiled hopefully. "Debbie said I should buy new clothing? So I did. Was that right?"  _Fuck yes it was._ Daphne made a mental note to send Debbie a very nice "Sorry I Got You Attacked By A Forklift" gift. Whatever that was. Flowers sounded good. 

 

 


	29. In Which Rose Is A Little (A Lot) Paranoid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tammy and Daphne seem awful close lately...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Remy-Roman (Also known as TuXe) for generally being awesome and also because I sort of drafted them into being my pot sounding board. Sorry not sorry. Love ya!

**Day 14, 3 Days after the Forklift Incident**

Rose was getting concerned. She wasn't the territorial sort, really she wasn't, but Daphne had certainly been out rather often.  Which wasn't unusual, because she was a movie star but she kept bringing Tammy with her and  _she was being ridiculous._ Logic really had no place in affairs of the heart. With a huff, Rose returned to selecting an outfit for dinner while trying not to stare at her phone.  _She is coming to pick you up. She will be here at six. There is no bloody reason to think she's left. This is her apartment, after all._ Strangely, these very accurate points did nothing to overshadow the looming fear that  _maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe she realizes that. Maybe she likes Tammy better because she's not all anxious and old and-_

"Rosie! I'm home!" Yes, she was. Exactly on time. So why did her stomach tie itself in knots?

Zipping up the dress she was suddenly unsure if she looked good in, Rose went to greet her fiance.  _Good bloody lord. Looking that good ought to be illegal._ Daphne was resplendent as always, beaming widely. She pulled Rose into a soft kiss, lightly stroking her cheek. "I missed you, baby."  _Then why were you off doing God knows what?_ Rose kept that errant thought to herself and let Daphne lead her to the car. The ride passed in a small talk filled daze. While Rose kept up a steady stream of questions, her brain disengaged after Daphne started to answer them. The ride could have taken five minutes or an hour, she just knew that really, she was being silly and Daphne was  _right there_ and with her and not anybody else so why the blooming hell was she moping? 

The car rolled to a stop. Daphne darted out of the car, proudly holding the door open.  _She's so ruddy perfect..._ Rose squared her shoulders and exited.  _Enough of this. She's here, she loves me, we are going to have a lovely dinner, and that's that._

As always, Daphne was the picture of charm and charisma. She pulled out chairs, made pithy observations about other diners, asked about her day, and was just generally perfect. Rose almost forgot why she had previously been worried. It was when Daphne began teasingly showing off a dress she had purchased "shopping with Tam Tam" that Rose's delusions of potential doom returned full force.

"Daph? Are we alright?" The star stopped short, confusion etched on perfect features.

"Um...Yeah? Right?" Daphne was either the picture of poise when caught misbehaving, or Rose was being ridiculous.  _Please let it be that she was being ridiculous._

She took a gulp of her wine. "You've been awfully close to Tammy lately. You meet up for shopping trips and text her constantly and give her nicknames and I don't know... She's lovely and poised and didn't join a bloody heist due to financial trouble and-"

"-Fuck." Rose paused. Daphne didn't look like a woman caught cheating. She looked like she was torn between hugging her and crying with laughter. "Shit, Rosie. I should know surprises are a bad fucking idea with you, shouldn't I?" Surprises? _Why surprise could this be? "Suprise, it was all a joke, I'm leaving?" **shut up brain** Ooh! Or "Suprise, it wasn't a joke, but I have a better offer now!"  **shut the bloody hell up** Or- _Daphne was standing up.  _Shit. Shit shit shit bullocks what do I do?_

She reached into her handbag and took out a box.  _Was that a normal part of a breakup? **No, it wasn't.**_ What on earth was she- "I wanted to have this be a surprise, but I can see that backfired. Rose Weil, I love you so  _fucking_ much. And so I asked Tammy to help me find this," she knelt on the floor, holding the box.  _Wait a minute. Hold on just one bleeding second!_ "I know I spent a lot of time finding it, but I thought, we've fucked enough of this up, right? So I wanted this to be more...Traditional? Yeah. So, marry me?" 

Daphne was strangely blurry.  _Appears she was crying again. Well then._ Nodding vigorously, Rose sat frozen as Daphne hauled herself off the floor to put the (bloody gorgeous) ring on her finger. "Of course I'll marry you! I mean, because I basically asked you to because of a bet while sort-of concussed and...Yes. I see how our courtship could be seen as unconventional." Daphne reached out, wiping a tear off of her face. Rose leaned forward, forgetting that they were in a very crowded restaurant as she kissed her now official fiancé. 

Since nothing in their bleeding lives could go smoothly, they were interrupted by a very snooty waiter, informing them that they ought to take their "celebration" outside. Which they promptly did, Daphne dragging her toward the door laughing all the way. 

Said "celebration" was put on hold just long enough to get back to the penthouse and send their new PR manager the news, with the instruction to "Spread it like fucking wildfire, Constance." Rose was pretty sure their skateboarding co-thief would do a bang-up job of having their faces in every paper by tomorrow. In the meantime, she had a wedding to plan. Would it be considered tacky to ask Amita to be her maid of honor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I may add a few more chapters as epilogues, I may not. But I felt like this is a pretty good spot to leave em. Any other chapters would probably have a few time skips. (Skip to the wedding, to anniversaries, to birthdays, etc.)


End file.
